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‘I don’t know how I’ll 
pecting you, old man,’ 


make up to you for sus- 

he said ” [Page 269] 




THE 


SILVER CANOE 


The Story of the Secret that 
Had to be Kept 


BY 

HENRY GARDNER HUNTING 

Author of “ Witter Whitehead’s Bwn Story,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY H: S. DELAY 



CHICAGO 

A. C. McCLURG & CO. 
1909 



Copyright 

A. C. McClurg & Co. 
1909 

Published August 21, 1909 


(C)AUG :i 1909 

a. A 244834 

AU j 2S )Qp9 

. ..— — I I ■ II 


lafctstlit ^rtss 

R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY 
CHICAGO 





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CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I. A Prize Worth the Winning ... 9 

II. Inside Information . . . . .24 

III. A Question of Honor .... 36 

IV. Trespassing ...... 51 

V. Under Suspicion 62 

VI. An Accident 79 

VII. A Busy Prisoner 89 

VIII. In THE River ’ s Power .... 105 

IX. The House on the Island . . 122 

X. The Man Who Disappeared . . 136 

XI. Other People *s Secrets .... 149 

XII. On the Edge of Success .... 162 

XIII. Fire! 178 

XIV. The Street of the Broken Sidewalks . 193 

* 

XV. Lost — A Friend 203 

XVI. Cross Examination 216 

XVII. Queer News to Carry .... 231 

XVIII. Face to Face with a Mystery . . 241 

XIX. Something that Needed Telling . . 250 

XX. A Prize Lost and Won .... 260 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

“ ‘ I don’t know how I’ll make up to you for 

suspecting you, old man,’ he said” Frontispiece 

I guess I never wanted anything so much in 

my life” 20 

“ ‘Give me that envelope,’ I said” . . 92 

“ Where did you come from ? ” . . .132 

Don’t you know that that first prize rebus- 

answer is oursf'""' ..... 248 

^‘Now I want you to explain how you knew 
what kind of paper the rebus-answers were 
printed on” . . . . . . 262 


/ 


THE SILVER CANOE 


CHAPTER I 

A PRIZE WORTH THE WINNING 

I T was because I told my father that I 
wanted to work in a store one summer 
vacation that he let me get a place at Mait- 
land’s, and that is how the things I am going 
to write about came to happen. This is going 
to be the story of the thousand-dollar prize 
and what happened to me when I tried for it. 
It all began with the puzzle that the advertis- 
ing manager, Mr. Paine, put into the papers 
to advertise pianos. On the next page is a 
picture of the puzzle, just as it was in every 
paper in the city, one day in June, just after 
I began work. 

My name is Walter McDonald, and the 
place I had was ofl5ce-boy in Mr. Paine’s office, 
in the big department store; so I knew about 
[ 9 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


the rebus-prize right from the start. And I 
was interested because I like puzzles pretty 
well and because Tom Moultrie said that, if 
anybody should win a prize and should not 
want a piano, he could easily sell it for five 
hundred or six hundred dollars and buy any- 
thing else he wanted with the money he got for 
it. I wanted a lot of things. 

Tom Moultrie was one of the boys in the 
advertising department, too. I guess he was 
older than I was, a little. He had been in the 
store longer. And he was the one who first 
told me about the prize. 

“Are you going to try for the prize, Walter 
he asked me one morning, just after we got 
into the ofiice, when nobody else was there. 

“What prize.?” I asked, for I had n’t seen 
the advertisement. 

**The rebus-prize,” he answered. 

“I don’t know,” I said. “What is it.?” 

“ Have n’t you heard about it .? Maitland’s 
piano department is going to give a thousand- 
dollar piano to anybody that will guess the 
rebus they put in the papers to-day.” 

[ 10 ] 


ALL 






THE SILVER CANOE 


I was n’t just sure what a rebus was, so I 
asked him. 

“Don’t you know?” he said. “Why a 
rebus is a — a — well, it’s a puzzle.” 

He did n’t seem to know so very well him- 
self. But he took hold of my arm and pulled 
me over to the desk he used in the outside oflSce 
and showed me the advertisement in the 
morning paper. It was a whole page, all 
about the Maitland pianos, and in the middle 
was the puzzle, just as you can see it printed 
in this story. 

“How ’d you like to make a thousand dol- 
lars?” he went on, pointing his finger to the 
prize list. “Look here! A thousand-dollar 
Shellwin piano is the first prize; a Ballington 
seven-hundred one is second; and a Bucking- 
ham five-hundred is third. Even the fourth 
is a Millward for three hundred and fifty, and 
there ’s a lot of smaller prizes of credit checks 
from a hundred dollars down.” 

“But I don’t want a piano,” I said. 

“No, — neither do I, but anybody ’d buy a 
thousand-dollar Shellwin of you for five or 
[ 12 ] 


PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


six hundred, would n’t they ? Everybody 
knows the pianos the Shellwin factory makes. 
That would be three hundred apiece for us.” 

I thought probably it was so that almost 
anybody who had money enough would buy 
a Shellwin, for lots of them were sold. But 
he surprised me when he talked about getting 
three hundred dollars apiece. It showed he 
wanted me to work with him for the prize 
and divide. But I did n’t say anything about 
that then. 

“I wish it was the sporting-goods depart- 
ment that offered the prizes,” I said, because 
I began to think right away about the things 
I ’d like to have. 

“ Why ? ” asked Tom. 

“I ’d rather win that canoe or that little 
motor-launch up there,” I answered. 

“Oh, that canoe is a peach, is n’t it.^^” he 
said. “ But say, that ’s easy. If you get three 
hundred dollars you could buy that canoe a 
dozen times over, or the motor-launch and the 
canoe, too. The launch is only one hundred 
and twenty-five, and the canoe sixteen.” 

[ 13 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


It sort of excited me to hear him. You 
don’t always think very easily how much a 
hundred or two hundred or three hundred 
dollars is, till you figure out what it would buy. 
I began to think faster than he talked; and I 
could remember, too, right away, a little tent I 
had seen one day in the sporting-goods depart- 
ment, and I knew it was only thirty dollars. 
And there was a jointed trout-rod up there 
for seven dollars, and a dandy reel for two and 
a half, and about a hundred more things that 
I could just see, one after another, the way you 
do when you try to think what you ’d like for 
Christmas. 

“Do you think maybe we could win.?” I 
asked. 

“I think we could, sure,” he answered. 
“You say you like puzzles.?” 

“I do.” 

I looked at the rebus, but it looked pretty 
hard to me. If you look at it, maybe you ’ll 
know how to solve it right away, but I 
did n’t. It looked as if it might take a long 
time. 


[ 14 ] 


PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


“I ’m pretty good at ’em, too,” Tom said. 
“ We ’ll work it together, and when we get it 
we ’ll have a lot of fun with the money. 
How ’d you like to go camping up to Crystal 
Lake.?” 

“ I ’d like it,” I said. “ So would anybody.” 

“I ’ll tell you what we ’ll do,” he went on. 
“ We ’ll get the money and buy the things we 
want, and then we ’ll go up there for three or 
four weeks and have the most fun you ever 
heard of. Your father ’ll let you, won’t he ? 
Mine won’t care.” 

Maybe he will,” I said. “ But we could n’t 
get away from the store for so long, could 
we.?” 

“Get away from the store!” he said. 
“ What ’ll we care for the store .? How much 
do you get a week .? ” 

“Five dollars.” 

“ Well, you can only make fifty dollars work- 
ing all summer then, or two hundred and 
sixty for the whole year. This prize ’ll be 
three hundred apiece anyway, maybe more, 
and it ’ll only take two weeks.” 

[ 15 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Two weeks?” 

“Yes. You have to get your answer in 
before two weeks are up, and then you get 
your prize right away. It ’s really only ten 
days.” 

Well, I could hardly believe it, for it did n’t 
seem possible that such a thing could happen; 
but Tom’s way of talking made me think that 
maybe it might. I looked down at the rebus 
again and began to think what some of the 
pictures might mean, and almost at the same 
minute I saw what some of the words were. 
I made out the last three words in the first line, 
almost in a second. From where the big 
figure A is to the end of that line, it was quite 
plain that it meant /or piano excellence. 

I said it out loud and pointed to the words, 
and Tom looked down at them, too. Then 
he looked at me and laughed. 

“Didn’t I tell you?” he said. “And the 
rest ’s just as easy as that is.” 

“ How do you know ? ” I asked. “ Have you 
worked any of it?” 

“A little,” he answered. 

[ 16 ] 


PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


It was just then that we heard somebody 
coming through the main office, outside, to 
our door. The advertising office is in the 
front of the building at Maitland’s, and you 
have to go through the general offices to get to 
it from the elevators. It was early, and there 
was n’t very much noise outside yet, as there 
usually is during the day; so we could hear 
pretty plain, and the steps that were coming, 
you could know, were on their way to our 
door. 

Tom closed the page of the paper over, 
rather quick, as if he did n’t want anybody to 
see us looking at it, and then he shook his head 
at me to keep still. 

“What ’s the matter I asked. 

“ Wait, and I ’ll tell you,” he answered; and 
just then Mr. Paine opened the door and 
came in. 

Mr. Paine ’s quite a good kind of a man to 
work for, I think, as they say at the store. 
He ’s quite a young man and he ’s very quick 
and fast in everything he does. Sometimes 
he gets mad when anybody else is slow, but 

[ 17 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


he ’ll let us boys do almost anything we ask 
him, if we only are quick, and don’t forget, 
and are on time. I like him; but then, when 
I first began work in his oflSce, I was always 
sort of afraid of him because he was so quick 
and sharp. 

This morning he nodded his head at us and 
went right on through our room and into his 
private oflSce, without paying very much at- 
tention to us. 

“Don’t let him know anything about our 
trying for the prize,” Tom whispered to me. 
“He maybe would n’t let us.” 

“Why not.?” 

“Because we belong to the store.” 

“Does the paper say we can’t try.?” 

“No, of course not.” 

“Then, I should n’t think he ’d care.” 

“He will, though. You know how par- 
ticular he is.” 

I hadn’t thought about this before, so it 
made me feel bad, a little, for a minute. Then 
I thought of something else. 

“But, if everybody in the store could try,” 
[ 18 ] 


PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


I said, “then the people in the piano depart- 
ment could get it easiest. Maybe they ’d know 
what all the things in the rebus mean, any- 
way.” 

“They can’t try,” Tom said. “The ad 
says that people who are in music stores or 
music departments are barred. But, they 
don’t know up there, anyway. Nobody out- 
side the advertising department knows the 
answer.” 

“How do you know.^^” 

“I heard Mr. Paine say so.” 

“ Of course, it would n’t be fair, if any one 
did.” 

“Of course not.” 

The bell for beginning work, which always 
rings at eight o’clock, rang just then, and Tom 
folded up the paper and put it into his pocket. 

“ When you go out on an errand this morn- 
ing,” he said, “you buy a paper and you’ll 
find the ad in it, and then you can work on it. 
We ’ll both work all the time we can get and 
then what words I don’t get, maybe you ’ll 
have ; and what you don’t solve, maybe I will.” 

[ 19 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


Well, that seemed a good scheme, so I 
thought maybe I could do some work at noon 
on the puzzle. Of course, I could hardly 
think about very much else, either; because, 
when you suddenly hope to get something that 
you really never imagined you ’d have you 
can’t help just having it in your mind most 
all the time. And it happened that the very 
first place I had to go on an errand that morn- 
ing was up to the sporting-goods department, 
so that made it pretty easy for me to get a lot 
more things to keep me thinking. 

Tom and I had been up in that department 
on the sixth floor several times, at noons and 
at other times when we were n’t busy, and I 
wanted to see ever so many things that were 
there besides the ones we had talked about. 
Of course, it was n’t sure that we ’d win the 
first prize, or any prize at all, because we 
had n’t even begun to work on the puzzle yet. 
I know that almost anybody would say it was 
very foolish to begin to think that we could 
pick out the things we could buy with the 
money, before we even had any money to buy 
[ 20 ] 



4 i 


I i;uess I 


never wanted anything so much in m} 

life” 








PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


with. But Tom seemed so sure we could win, 
and I had read a little bit of the puzzle so easily 
that it did n’t seem foolish to me then. Be- 
sides, you can make yourself think almost 
anything is likely to happen, if you just want 
it to happen bad enough. And I guess that 
was how it was with me. 

I knew a man who worked in the sporting- 
goods. His name was Mallory, and he was 
a mighty good fellow. He used to show us 
new things and tell us about them; so, when 
I had to go up there, I always looked for him. 
So this morning, when I had to ask the head 
of the department about what goods he wanted 
Mr. Paine to advertise next day, I went to 
Mr. Mallory first. 

“You ask Mr. Peters about the advertising 
for me, will you.^^” I asked him, because I 
knew he would, and that, if it took Mr. Peters 
a little while to make out a list, I could get a 
chance to see the canoe while I waited. The 
canoe was what I really wanted more than 
anything else, and I believe, if I ’d had it then, 
I would n’t have traded it for the motor- 
121 ] 


THE S ILVER CAN OE 

launch, even if the launch did cost so much 
more money. 

So Mr. Mallory did go to talk to Mr. Peters 
and left me to look around; and, because I 
belonged in the store and because all the 
clerks knew me, I could walk all around be- 
hind the counters and look as much as I 
wanted to. And I knew where to find that 
canoe. 

Say, but it was a beauty! It was n’t a very 
big canoe — just about right for two people 
to ride in. It was just the kind you could n’t 
help but want. It was so slim and graceful, 
sharp-ended, bow and stern just alike, arching 
over like an Indian’s canoe, only it was much 
prettier and stronger. It was braced inside, 
but had n’t any seats or thwarts, as they call 
them — only cushions to kneel or sit on when 
you paddled. And it was painted a silver 
color, a sort of gray, fine and smooth, so that 
it would be hard to see on the water, I suppose 
— hard for fish and turtles and things like 
that to see, anyway. And it was trimmed 
with a kind of crimson, shiny and very hand- 
[ 22 ] 


PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


some. And it had two paddles, one single 
and the other double-bladed. 

I guess I never wanted anything so much in 
my life, for I just knew I could handle that 
canoe like everything. It lay in its rests 
inside the railing opposite the show-cases, and 
there were a lot of things to go with it, all the 
things to go camping and fishing with, all 
together, fixed just the way you ’d like to have 
them for yourself ; and I stood and just looked 
and looked at them and thought that I 
would n’t care if I could n’t ever have anything 
else, if I could just have that silver canoe. 

I never had had a canoe, or any other kind 
of boat, up to the time the prize was offered, 
because father said I was n’t quite old enough ; 
but I was pretty sure he ’d say I might when 
I ’d won this one. I could swim, then, and so 
I was safe. When I ’d looked at it quite a 
while, I believed that I ’d be able to get it, 
too, for it seemed a very small thing to do, just 
to solve a rebus-puzzle, to get a thing like thar 
canoe. 


[ 23 ] 


CHAPTER II 

INSIDE INFORMATION 

rHEN -Mr. Peters gave me the list and a 
^ ^ note for Mr. Paine, I went back down 
to the advertising office again, and I wanted 
to run and hollo or something instead of walk- 
ing and riding in the elevator, because I felt 
as if I could n’t keep still. If that canoe should 
ever be mine, I thought, then I would n’t be 
able to stay inside any store or house, either. 
And I hardly thought about the pianos being 
the prizes at all, but felt just as if the canoe 
were the one I was working for. I could n’t 
see, then, why anybody ’d ever offer pianos 
for prizes anyway, till I remembered how 
much money they were worth and how much 
would be left out of the price of one of them, 
after the canoe was bought. 

Well, Tom was the one who was sent out of 
the store first that day, so I did n’t get a 
chance to get a paper right away. I had to 

[ 24 ] 


INSIDE INFORMATION 


run all over the store to different departments, 
collecting the lists they had for Mr. Paine, 
and it ’s hard work, too, to do that, for you 
have a lot of stairs to climb and a great deal of 
walking, in spite of using the elevators as much 
as you can. But I did n’t seem to think much 
about it then, for I was so busy planning what 
we could do when we had the money, that 
there was n’t any room in my head, I guess, 
for any more thoughts. 

But I have a friend who works in the 
cashier’s department, down in the basement 
of the store. It ’s not in the same part where 
the packing-rooms are, but in the front part. 
My friend is a girl named Gracia Tarrant, 
and she ’s almost like a boy, because she is 
always ready to do things and never tells 
anybody the things you tell her. All the boys 
like her, and I like her better than I do most 
of the boys. It ’s funny, but when a girl is 
the right sort, you do like her very much. 

The room where Gracia works is just beside 
one of the stairways that go down from the 
main floor, and I go up and down that stair a 

[ 25 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


good many times, because the elevators are 
always so full that it ’s hard to get in or out at 
the first fioor or the basement. It is n’t really 
a room she works in, because it ’s only made 
by the cash-carrier tubes, coming down in a 
big square all around the desks of the girls 
who make the change. You know the cash- 
carriers in Maitland’s are drawn by air 
suction through brass tubes that run from 
the counters all over the store to the cashier’s 
room. The carriers are little boxes shaped 
like a big spool, which open and shut by turn- 
ing their tops. A clerk, when he makes a 
sale, gives the money he gets, with the sales- 
ticket, to the girl at the wrapping desk behind 
his counter. She puts the cash and ticket 
into a carrier and the carrier into the pneu- 
matic tube, as it is called — which just means 
air-tube. It is drawn through the tube by 
the suction made by pumps in the basement, 
and the carrier fiies to the cashier’s room, just 
the way lemonade comes up through the 
straw when you drink it that way. I guess 
everybody knows how that is. Then, when 
[ 26 ] 


INSIDE INFORMATION 


the girls in the cashier’s room get the car- 
riers, they take out the money and send the 
change back by another tube in which the air 
is blowing the other way. 

The way I got acquainted with Gracia was 
by making out a sales-ticket one day for Miss 
Bartlett, a girl who works in the china depart- 
ment, which is near the advertising-room. 
I made out the ticket wrong and sent it down 
with the money through the tube, and it hap- 
pened that that tube was one that Gracia has 
at her desk. I had to go down and see Gracia 
afterwards about the mistake, and she was so 
nice about it that we got to be friends. And 
then I found out that the place where she sat 
was right near the tubes on the stairway side 
of the cashier’s room where I could talk to her; 
so sometimes when I went by I ’d stop and 
speak to her, through between the tubes, 
which came down all around like the big brass 
bars of some kind of prison. 

It ’s nice to know a lot of people, all over a 
big store like Maitland’s, for you see and hear 
so many things and learn such a lot that you 

[ 27 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


would n’t learn if you just went around with- 
out talking to anybody at all. And then w hen 
you are very much interested in anything, you 
can always find out what your friends think 
about it, and maybe what they think will help 
you to have some ideas you could n’t get any 
other way. There were n’t very many people 
I would have liked to talk to about the rebus- 
prize, but I thought, when I went down the 
basement stairs that morning, that maybe I ’d 
like to tell Gracia a little bit about it. She and 
I had worked some puzzles out together, and I 
thought perhaps she could help me. 

“Hello,” I said to her, through between the 
tubes, when I was on the stairs. “I want to 
talk to you.” 

“You can’t now,” she answered, for she 
was very busy, and the cash-carriers were 
just bobbing and thumping in front of her. 
They make a noise sort of like pulling a 
big cork when they come out of the tubes, 
and they were popping pretty fast just 
then. 

“At noon, then,” I said. 

[ 28 ] 


INSIDE INFORMATION 


“What about?” she asked, working right 
along, but anxious to know. 

“About money,” I said. 

“I don’t know anything about money,” 
she answered; and just then she took a big 
handful of bills out of a cash-carrier and 
laughed as she held it up for me to see. 

“I should think not,” I said. “But I can 
tell you something you don’t know.” 

“ Can you ? Have you been left a fortune ? ” 

“No, but I’m going to make a lot of dollars, 
and I want you to help me.” 

She looked up quick. “Rebus-prize?” she 
asked, sudden as could be. 

I was astonished. “How did you know?” 
I asked, and then she laughed again. 

“I shall never tell,” she said, and I knew 
she was jollying me, so I pretended not to be 
interested. 

“I’m working it out,” I said. 

“Are you?” she asked. “How far have 
you got?” 

“Not very far.” 

“Do you want a piano?” 

[ 29 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“No, I want a canoe.” 

“I’d rather have a piano.” 

“I’m going to sell the piano and buy some 
other things. If you help, I’ll buy you some- 
thing.” 

She looked at me with her eyes full of fun. 
“Which piano are you going to sell.?^” she 
asked. 

Of course, she was making fun of me, and 
I deserved it, for I hardly knew how I ’d ever 
come to talk about it that way, as if I was 
sure I ’d win. But you don’t like to own before 
a girl that you are foolish. So I just laughed, 
too, and said I would win and sell the Shell- 
win. I thought probably she would make 
more fun about that, but she did n’t. Her 
hands were very busy making change for a 
minute and then she looked up at me again, 
with the laugh all smoothed out of her face. 
“Let ’s talk about it this noon,” she said. 

Well, I went on with my errands then, and 
after a while I was sent out, to go over to a 
printing-office, where Mr. Paine had some 
printing done, and the first thing I did was to 

[ 30 ] 


INSIDE INFORMATION 


get a paper and put it in my pocket. Then I 
went on, never once thinking that a very queer 
thing was going to happen to me. 

I suppose everybody has been in a printing- 
office. Almost every boy has a printing-press 
and type of his own, I guess. I never had a 
very big one, but I knew quite a good deal 
about type and how it looks and all those 
things, and I was a good deal interested in it. 
So when I was in the printer’s, as I was pretty 
often, I always went around and looked at the 
big presses and the type and other things, 
while I waited for whatever I was to take back. 

That day, I was mighty anxious to get away 
by myself and open the paper for a chance to 
see the rebus-puzzle, but there was n’t any 
place in the printing-office. I did n’t want 
anybody to see me working at the puzzle, for 
I knew there would be a good many people 
who would be working it, too, and probably 
somebody might be curious about the answers 
I would write. So I just had to stand around 
and wait while Mr. Paine’s things were being 
got ready, and I did n’t look at anything except 

[ 31 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


the type that was on one stone. They always 
put the type after it is ready for press on a 
big flat ^tone, which they call an imposing 
stone in a printing-office, and it is always put 
back there again, after the printing from it is 
done. 

There was one “ form,” as they call it, or a 
lot of type locked up together, that stood on 
the corner of the stone near the desk up in the 
front part of the oflfice, where Mr. Redfern, 
the owner of the printing-office, sat. I stood 
beside this and was looking down at it, not 
thinking very much about it, when I noticed 
it was a sort of queer-looking page. There 
were a lot of little square cuts in it with words 
under them. ‘‘ Cuts” are what they call the 
plates they print pictures from, and one of 
them down in the corner seemed very funny. 
It looked like a key with a fish swimming 
through the handle, and under it I spelled out 
the word “official.” It did n’t mean any- 
thing to me at all then, and I did n’t even try 
to spell out the other words near it. Type 
always is set backwards, you know, and is 

[ 32 ] 


INSIDE INFORMATION 


not easy for people to read who are n’t used 
to it. 

But just as I was looking at it, Mr. Redfern, 
the printer, came up to the stone with one of 
his men; and when I looked up at him, he 
looked at me suddenly, sharp, as if he were 
suspicious of me for something, and then he 
turned to his man. 

“I told you to keep that form out of sight,” 
he said, crossly, but in a low voice. “ Why 
do you suppose I gave the job to you? No 
one was to know anything about it, or see it, 
but yourself and myself.” 

“Yes, sir, I know,” answered the man. 
“But he ’s only a kid.” 

“That ’s all, yes,” said Mr. Redfern, “but 
it might have been somebody else.” 

Of course they meant me, and it interested 
me; but I guessed that it was n’t any of my 
business, so I just walked away. It seemed 
queer, but even then I did n’t understand, 
and pretty soon I got the envelope of papers 
to go back to Mr. Paine, I went out without 
thinking any more about it. But when I 

[ 33 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


got into the street, I was so eager to get a 
chance to look at the rebus-puzzle, that I 
stopped a minute in a doorway, and opened 
the paper to it. And then, — what do you 
think ? — almost the first thing I saw was the 
little picture down in the left-hand lowest 
corner, of the key and the fish. I did n’t re- 
member that picture at all, from seeing it with 
Tom, earlier, but I knew in a second now that 
what I had seen in the printing- oflice surely 
had something to do with this rebus. And 
in a minute, when I saw that there were no 
words printed under the pictures in the paper, 
I understood that I had seen the answer to 
the puzzle in type at the printers. Just one 
more glance at the cut in the lower corner 
showed that the thing the fish was swim- 
ming through wasn’t the handle of a key, 
but was meant for the letter 0, and that the 
tail hanging down below was the letter L , — 
“O-fish-L,” as plain as could be, official ^ — 
but I knew it would have been a very hard 
word to guess, if I had n’t seen it in the type 
form first. 


[ 34 ] 


INSIDE INFORMATION 


Well, I can hardly tell how much that 
startled me, or how many things I thought of 
all at once. First, I was excited because I’d 
got one of the words of the rebus-puzzle with- 
out any doubt. Then I suddenly thought 
that I ’d got it in a way that anybody would call 
cheating, if they knew, though I had n’t 
meant to cheat and had n’t even thought of 
such a thing. And then, I suddenly remem- 
bered what Tom had said about employees of 
music-stores and music departments being 
barred from trying for the prizes, and I knew 
why it was. It was just because anybody who 
worked in those places might either find the 
guessing of the rebus too easy, because they 
knew the names of things so well, or they 
might learn accidentally what the answers 
were, without guessing — just exactly as I 
had learned one. 


[ 35 ] 


CHAPTER III 

A QUESTION OF HONOR 

T DON’T know whether anybody else ever 
feels that way or not, but sometimes when 
I get into a fix and don’t know just what I 
ought to do, I want to wait a while before I 
get ready to make up my mind about it. That 
was the way I felt after I got back to the store 
that morning. I was sorry that I’d seen that 
cut in the type-form, for it made me think 
perhaps it would n’t be fair for me to go on 
guessing the rebus. And yet, I knew it was n’t 
my fault that I’d seen the cut. If I’d known 
it was there, I never would have looked at it; 
and so nobody could blame me for seeing it. 
But I kept getting one thought into my mind 
that bothered me a good deal, and that was 
the reason why people connected with the 
music department were barred from working 
the puzzle was because their chances of finding 
out the right answers were so good. And it 

[ 36 ] 


A QUESTION OF HONOR 


seemed to me that the people in the advertising 
department might have been barred out for 
just that same kind of a reason. 

“ Say,” I said to Gracia, that noon, when we 
had our lunch together in the coat-room, “ do 
you think I ought not to work for the rebus- 
prize.?” 

“Why.?” she asked, and she looked up so 
quick at me that it sort of embarrassed me. 
I did n’t want to tell her all about the whole 
thing. I thought maybe she would n’t ex- 
actly believe it, if I said I had just accidentally 
seen the cut in the type-form; and, if she 
did n’t believe me, she would say I ought not 
to work for the prize. So I tried to make her 
tell me what she would do, in my place, with- 
out telling her about that at all. 

“Because,” I said, “I am in the advertising 
department.” 

“The advertisement doesn’t say anything 
about that,” she answered. “It just says 
music-department people.” 

“ I know, but why does it shut out the music- 
department .? ” 


[ 37 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


I hoped maybe she’d say something that 
would make me see things in a different way, 
but she did n’t. 

“Why, goosie,” she said, “because they 
could tell the answers so easily.” 

“But they don’t know the answers,” I 
said. 

“Maybe not, but they know the names of 
all the pianos so well and they know so much 
about the kinds of things that are always 
being said about the pianos, that they could 
guess much quicker, and would know surer 
when they had the answers right.” 

I thought to myself that I had seen the 
piano department’s advertisements in Mr. 
Paine’s office pretty often and so knew a good 
deal about the things they said about the 
pianos, and I had heard the names of all the 
different pianos a good many times, even 
though I had been in the office only a little 
while. Still, everybody in the city had always 
had a chance to read the advertisements, and 
the names of the pianos were well known 
everywhere, so that was n’t any reason for my 

[ 38 ] 


A QUESTION OF HONOR 


feeling wrong about it. That ’s the way 1 
thought to myself. 

“Have you worked out the rebus Gracia 
asked me. 

“Not any more since this morning,” I 
answered, and then I took the paper out and 
opened it, for I did n’t want to talk with her 
any more about the other thing, just then. 

The minute Gracia looked at the paper, 
she was interested. 

“Why, that first word is she said right 
away. “The T is plain enough, and the 
funny man in the high hat is he. That makes 
t-h-e^ the, easy as can be.” 

It was n’t very hard to see that, and when 
I’d got started that way, I looked at the next 
word and that was just as plain. 

'' H-eye-est, highest"' I said. 

“That’s it,” Gracia exclaimed, looking up 
at me, and her eyes were all full of light again, 
just as they always are when she gets inter- 
ested. “And the next one is A, with a map — ” 

“ — of a ward!” I said, as she stopped. 

A-ward, award!" she repeated, and then 

[ 39 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


quickly, “and the S makes it awards! The 
highest awards! Oh, say, this is too easy, 
I ’m afraid.” 

I pointed to the end of the line where I had 
read the words with Tom that morning. 

“That’s for 'piano excellence^'' I said. 

“Oh, of course it is!” Gracia cried, looking 
at the rebus. 

“ What ’s the girl got to do with it ? ” I asked, 
for I could n’t see very easily what to do with 
the picture of the girl. 

“Girl — little girl — child — maiden,” said 
Gracia, trying to find the word that would fit 
into the puzzle. “ I know ! It ’s maid — only 
m-a-d-e. The highest awards made for piano 
excellence. ” 

“But there’s another picture,” I said. 
“There’s the woman with the apple or some- 
thing and the — ” 

“Oh!” Gracia said again, “That’s easy 
too. That ’s Eve, with the apple and the ser- 
pent — and the R after it makes it e-v-e-r. 
The highest awards ever made." 

Well, I could see she was right, for the words 

[ 40 ] 


A QUESTION OF HONOR 


fitted in so nicely that there could n’t be any 
doubt at all about them. It seemed to me as 
if the puzzle was just as good as solved right 
then, and I could n’t help thinking that we 
were really going to get a prize. 

“We’ll win it — we’ll win it!” I said, 
and I could just about see that canoe wait- 
ing in the water for me, and I looked at 
Gracia, wondering what she could possibly 
like to buy as well as I’d like to have that 
canoe. 

But she laughed. “Oh, what a boy!” she 
said, “ Why, we have n’t worked a quarter of 
it yet, and maybe this is the easiest part. Be- 
sides, everybody can work this just as easy as 
we can, don’t you think so.^” 

“No,” I said. “Everybody is n’t so smart 
as you are.” 

“Or you,” she answered, making a little 
funny face at me. 

I looked down at the puzzle again. She was 
really getting more of it than I was, I thought, 
and I did n’t want to have it that way, but 
while I was working on the next word, Gracia 

[ 41 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


looked down through the whole puzzle, and in 
a minute she laughed again. 

“It is n’t all going to be so easy,” she said. 
“I can see two or three posers here. Look 
at that.” 

I looked where she pointed and — what do 
you think — her finger was right under the 
picture of the key and the fish, as I’d thought 
it was, at first. 

It was a very queer thing, I thought then, 
that she should pick out that one word to 
speak about, and then, all at once I found my 
face beginning to get hot all over, clear up on 
my forehead and my ears and way around on 
my neck. I never felt so hot in my life before, 
and I knew that my face must have been red as 
it could be, and I knew why, too. It was 
because I knew that word that she had picked 
out for a hard one, and because I was almost 
quite sure that the way I’d found it out was n’t 
square. 

I was pretty glad she did n’t look up 
then. “ It looks like a fish swimming through 
a ring,” she said, studying away at it. “But 

[ 42 ] 


A QUESTION OF HONOR 


what has the thing down below got to do 
with it?” 

But I just could n’t answer her, that 1 knew, 
so I kept still and waited. All at once, I 
thought that if she should guess the right word 
then it would be fair for us to use it in our 
answer to the whole puzzle. So I began to 
feel better. But, after Gracia had worked 
on that official word for a while, and could n’t 
get it, we went back to the beginning again, 
and the next word after excellence stopped us 
right there. The letter R and then the letter 
T and a funny-looking coil of something that 
looked like rope, seemed too hard for me, and 
while we were working, all at once the bell 
rang for the end of the noon-hour. So we 
had to go back to work, and I let Gracia take 
the rebus-puzzle with her, for I could get 
another. 

Well, that day was Wednesday, I remember, 
because, when I saw Tom Moultrie that after- 
noon, we spoke about it and counted up how 
long we would have to wait before the rebus- 
prize would be decided. It would be just 

[ 43 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


ten days, for the contest was to close a week 
from the next Saturday. 

“I wish we did n’t have to wait that long,” 
Tom said. 

“ Maybe it will take us as long as that to 
work the puzzle,” I said. I was thinking that 
Gracia was a pretty sensible kind of a girl, 
and that perhaps we were a good deal in a 
hurry to believe we were going to win. 

“No, it won’t,” Tom said. 

“How do you know.?” 

“Because it won’t.” 

“Have you got it all worked out.?” I asked, 
for the way he talked made me think he had. 

“No — but I will have in a day or two,” he 
answered. 

“I worked part of it,” I said. 

“All right,” he answered, not seeming to be 
very much interested. “When we each get 
it all done, we’ll put ours together and then 
we can tell which answers are most likely 
right.” 

I was glad enough to have it that way, be- 
cause I did n’t want to tell him that Gracia 

[ 44 ] 


A QUESTION OF HONOR 


was working with me on the puzzle. He was 
the kind that just makes fun if you like a girl, 
and he did n’t know the kind of a girl Gracia 
was. So I did n’t say anything more then. 

But next day something else happened that 
made me more interested, if that could be so, 
than I had been any time yet. I met Mr. 
Mallory, the man I knew in the sporting- 
goods department. He had come down to 
our office to see Mr. Paine, and he stopped 
to speak to me as he went out. 

“Hello, Walter,” he said. “I thought per- 
haps I ’d see you down here. Do you want 
to have some fun, Saturday?” 

“Yes,” I said, for Saturday we always have 
a half-holiday, and so we like to do the things 
that are the most fun at those times. 

“Well, I’m going to do some canoeing out 
in the woods,” he said. “ Want to go along ? ” 

“I should think I did,” I said. 

“I guess your father will let you,” he went 
on. “Tell him I ’ll take good care of you, all 
right, and teach you to handle a canoe, too.” 

“A regular canoe?” 

[ 45 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Yes; why?” 

“Are you going to take that silver canoe 
out on the river with you?” 

“ What silver canoe ? Oh, the one up in the 
show-room? I guess not; I have one of my 
own.” 

Well, I could n’t say much more than just 
one thing about that, so I told him I was glad 
he asked me, and that I would try to get my 
father to let me go ; and after he was gone, I 
could hardly wait for the afternoon to go and 
the time to come for the store to close. 

I did n’t know just what father would say 
about my going canoeing, but I hoped he’d 
let me go with Mr. Mallory, so when I could 
get away, at last, I did n’t wait to see Tom or 
Gracia or anybody any more that day, but just 
hurried for the elevated railroad, which I have 
to ride on to get home, and caught the first 
train I could. And, as soon as father came in 
and we sat down to supper that night, I asked 
him. 

“Can I go with Mr. Mallory canoeing, 
Saturday afternoon, father?” I asked. 

[ 46 ] 


A QUESTION OF HONOR 


My father is the kind of a man you can talk 
right out to. You need n’t ever be afraid he 
is n’t going to know just how you feel about 
things when you tell him anything. I guess 
he remembers all about how he used to feel 
about the kind of things a boy thinks of, and 
so he always lets you tell him just how a thing 
looks to you, before he says you can do it or 
can’t do it. And mother is awfully good to 
me. She just waits till father talks anything 
all over with me. 

“Well, well! ” father said. “Canoeing, eh.^’ 
What are you going canoeing in.?^” 

“In a regular canoe, on the river,” I an- 
swered. 

“On the river 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Is the canoe Mr. Mallory’s.^” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Father knew Mr. Mallory already, because 
the Mallorys lived near us one time; so I 
did n’t have to tell him who he was. 

“Well, I don’t know,” father said, slowly. 
“You’re not a very big boy to go out in a 

[ 47 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


canoe, but I ’d like to have you learn how to 
handle one. It’s a good sport.” 

Mother looked at him sort of anxious, but 
he smiled at her. 

“I ’ll be awfully careful,” I said. 

“Yes, I guess you will,” he answered, and 
I know he knew I was n’t so very careless 
about things like that. “Does Mr. Mallory 
want to teach you to handle the canoe 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then the next thing will be, you will want 
one for yourself.” 

“Yes, sir,” I said. “ Maybe I can earn one.” 

“Earn one 

“Yes, sir. I think maybe I can.” 

I was as anxious as I could be to tell mother 
and father about the rebus, but the more I 
thought about how Gracia had laughed at me 
for being so sure I ’d win, the less I was ready 
to talk about it. When father looked at me 
with his eyes all funning and questioning, I, 
all at once, thought it would sound sort of 
foolish to tell about the rebus-prize before I 
had worked it out. So I just laughed. 

[ 48 ] 


A QUESTION OF HONOR 


“I can,” I said, “if you ’ll let me.” 

Well, he began to tell, then, about how he 
learned to handle a boat when he was a boy 
and it interested me a good deal, too, for he 
was just about my age when his father let him 
use the one they had on a little lake on his 
farm. And he talked about lots of things he 
did with the boat he had. Then, at last, when 
I was afraid he would n’t talk any more about 
my going with Mr. Mallory, he came back to 
speak of that again. 

“Well,” he said, “this is only Wednesday 
night. Mother and I will talk it over and see 
about it.” 

I was mighty anxious to tell Mr. Mallory 
next morning that I could go, and I wanted 
father to tell me then; but I did n’t ask him 
to, for he thinks that t(^asing is like a baby, 
and he always says so when I ask over again 
after the first time. But I was glad I had n’t 
said any more, when, later, after I ’d gone to 
bed, I heard father and mother talking in the 
hall near my roon. I guess they thought I ’d 
gone to sleep. 


[ 49 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“I want to have the boy learn to do things 
— as many as possible,” father said. 

“But he ’s young to handle a boat,” mother 
answered. 

“Not too young, I guess. He’s a careful 
boy, and he ’s getting older than we realize. 
He ’ll be a man soon and I want him to be a 
real man, not a molly-coddle.” 

“So do I, ” answered mother. “And he 
did n’t tease to-night.” 

“No,” said father, “he didn’t. That’s 
one sign that he ’s growing up.” 

It seems mighty funny to hear your own 
father and mother talk about you, and I was 
sort of embarrassed even in the dark in my 
room. It makes you feel foolish to have even 
them say things like those about you. But 
I was glad, I can tell you, that they thought 
the way they did, for it meant that maybe I 
could go canoeing and afterwards have the 
silver canoe, too. And I guess I dreamed 
about it that night, I was so excited. 


[ 50 ] 


CHAPTER IV 

TRESPASSING 

'Y^^ELL, next morning, at breakfast, father 
^ said I might go with Mr. Mallory; and 
so I was as anxious as I could be to get to the 
store early and see Mr. Mallory first thing. I 
hurried all I could, too, and left home earlier 
than usual, even though mother made me stop 
and put on my rubbers, because it had been 
raining in the night and would be muddy. 
So that is the way I happened to get to Mr. 
Paine’s oflSce before the time I ordinarily 
reached it. I knew it was too early to go up 
to the sporting-goods department, for Mr. 
Mallory would n’t be there then, so I went to 
our office first. 

Nobody seemed to be stirring around the 
store, except a few of the earliest ones down- 
stairs. There was nobody at all on our floor, 
and it was as still as night up there. Of course, 
you could hear the cars out in the street and 
[ 51 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


the roar of the elevated trains, but they only 
made it seem quieter inside where there 
was n’t anything going on. When I walked 
across through the big general office, I thought 
about it because my feet did n’t make any 
noise on account of my rubbers. 

I found the door of our room open and went 
in, and everything seemed just the same, at 
first, except that one of the windows was open 
and the air blowing in fresh and nice, and the 
sunlight making it seem brighter than it did 
in the outside room. I did n’t take off my 
hat and rubbers right away, because I went 
to the window first and looked down at the 
street. It ’s fun to watch people from a high 
place like that, and you can see quite a good 
deal of two of the biggest streets in the city 
from our windows. It was very bright and 
fine that morning, too, and it just made me 
feel thrilled all over to look down there; for 
the sun was so bright on the wet pavement, and 
everything seemed to be so clear-colored and 
clean, and the people all moving quickly, with 
the cars and cabs and automobiles and trucks 
[ 52 ] 


TRESPASSING 


winding in and out and criss-cross. I like to 
look at that kind of things. 

But while I was standing there, I heard 
some sort of a noise in Mr. Paine’s private 
oflSce, as if some one was in there, and it sur- 
prised me very much. I listened then, right 
away, and pretty soon I heard it again — just 
a little sound of rattling paper; so I thought, 
at once, that Mr. Paine must be there working 
early. Still, as I thought about it, it did n’t 
seem like Mr. Paine to be so quiet most of 
the time, for he was n’t usually very still. 
He was most always moving about, or pulling 
open drawers in his desk, or telephoning, or 
something, and there was only just enough 
sound now, every two or three minutes, so 
that I could know some one was surely there. 

I got pretty curious after a little while, so I 
thought it would n’t do any harm to go over 
to the private office door, which was open, and 
glance in. Mr. Paine would n’t notice, if 
he was the one who was there, and if he was n’t 
I could find out who was in there; for it would 
seem queer for any one else to be there. 

[ 53 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


I turned around to look toward the door, 
but I could n’t see it from where I stood, 
because a big case of letter-files was between 
it and me. I was just going to step forward 
and go across the room when I heard some- 
body step in the private oflSce, and next 
minute I heard the feet plainly, but just as if 
they were tiptoeing on the hardwood floor 
near the door. And who should come out 
but Tom Moultrie! 

He was taking such pains to step softly that 
it made me wonder right away. I could n’t 
understand why he should be so quiet. But 
I did n’t speak to him then, for I saw in a 
minute that he did n’t see me, but was looking 
toward the outer office. So I stepped in 
behind the letter-cases and waited to see what 
he would do. I could n’t see him if I stayed 
hidden, but by listening and peeking a little 
I knew. 

He came out to the outer door and stopped 
and stood there listening first. Then he went 
into the general office a little way, still on 
tiptoe, as if he were afraid somebody would 

[ 54 ] 


TRESPASSING 


hear him, or as if he wanted to hear somebody 
else. Then he suddenly turned around and 
came back. I peeked almost at the wrong 
time, too, for he nearly caught me when he 
first turned to come back; and I was n’t sure 
at first that he had n’t seen me, till he came in 
again and turned straight back into Mr. 
Paine’s room. 

Then I began to be suspicious about him, 
for he had n’t any business in that room while 
Mr. Paine was out. None of us ever went 
into the private oflSce except when Mr. Paine 
called us, and then we stayed only while he 
wanted us, and came right out. I would 
just about as soon think of going into Mr. 
Maitland’s office without permission, as I 
would into Mr. Paine’s, and so I thought it 
very strange about Tom. 

I stepped out from behind the letter-cases 
and walked softly to the private-office door. 
I was glad then that I had my rubbers on, for 
I did n’t make a sound. I could understand 
then, too, why it was that Tom had n’t heard 
me when I first came in. I was careful not 

[ 55 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


to touch anything that would make a sound 
as I crept across the floor, and in a minute I 
stood just outside the door. Then I listened 
and listened for quite a good many seconds, 
and could n’t hear anything at all, so I did n’t 
dare to look. I don’t mean that I was afraid 
of Tom, but, if he was so afraid to make a 
noise, I wanted to And out what he was doing, 
if I could; and if he heard me, of course he 
would probably not let me know what it was. 
I did n’t know him very well, because I had 
only seen him first when I began to work for 
Mr. Paine, and I did n’t know what he would 
be likely to do. 

After a while again, though, I heard the 
papers inside the private office once more, 
and then I stepped forward and looked around 
the door-post into the room. At first I did n’t 
see anybody at all. The office seemed as 
empty as if no one had been in it that morning. 
Everything was as still as could be.. But 
after a minute I looked over at Mr. Paine’s 
desk, and there in the big swivel chair, where 
the advertising manager usually sat, was Tom 

[ 56 ] 


TRESPASSING 


Moultrie sitting all humped up, working away 
with a pencil, copying something very care- 
fully from a paper that lay on Mr. Paine’s 
desk. 

He was n’t a very good writer, for he put 
his tongue out when he made the pencil go. I 
almost laughed at him, as he wrote and wrote, 
and turned and twisted his head all around 
as the pencil moved, but then I began to think 
it was pretty serious. Of course, I did n’t 
know what he was copying, but the thought 
that I had, first thing, was of the rebus, and 
it made me feel sick clear down to my stomach. 
I did n’t want to watch him, and yet I did 
want to know whether it was really so. I 
thought right away that he was taking a great 
chance of being caught, and I was afraid for 
him and for myself too. I had all these feel- 
ings at once, and I was mad, as well as scared, 
for it made me feel that he was mixing me up 
in trouble, too. 

The desk was placed so you could n’t tell 
what it was he was working on. He sat 
almost facing me, too, and if he had n’t been 
[ 57 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


so busy, he would have seen me right away 
at the first. 

Of course, I knew it would n’t be very long 
before he looked up and so I wished very much 
that I could get a look on the desk before he 
did. But just at that instant, I heard the step 
of somebody coming into the outer oflSce; 
and I saw that Tom heard it, too, for he 
jumped and turned his head toward me. 

The instant he saw me, he stopped moving 
as if that was as far as he meant to go, and 
his eyes just looked at me with a shine in 
them like the way a cat’s do when she turns to 
look at you, if she does n’t like you. Then 
he got up out of the chair and put the paper 
he had been writing on into his pocket, and 
walked right across toward me. I stepped 
back and he came out into our room, and then 
he took hold of my arm and pulled me over 
toward the window quickly. 

“Say,” he said, “don’t say anything; I’ll 
tell you all about it.” 

I guess, from that, he must have seen by 
my face how I had been feeling, and he kept 

[ 58 ] 


TRESPASSING 


hold of me as if he were afraid I ’d get away 
from him. Then we both stood still and list- 
ened to the steps coming and coming across the 
long outer office, just as if there was nothing 
else we could do or think about but wait for 
them to come close. But when the steps 
stopped suddenly outside and then turned 
away and went over toward the book-keepers’ 
desks, Tom began at once to laugh. 

“Say,” he said, ‘‘you had me scared.” 

“What were you doing in there I asked. 

“ Well, I don’t know as that ’s any of your 
business,” he answered. “But maybe you ’ll 
think it ’s queer if I don’t tell you, so I will.” 

He stopped and laughed again a little. 

“Mr. Paine would n’t like it,” I said, won- 
dering whether he really would tell me, if 
what he had been doing had anything to do 
with the rebus. 

“ Would n’t he ? ” he asked. “ Well, maybe 
not. But I wanted to know. I got a sick 
mother and I had to know.” 

“Know what?” I asked. 

“ Whether they were going to give it to me.” 

[ 59 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“What are you talking about?” 

He looked at me queerly. “ What did you 
think I was doing in there ?” he asked. 

“Copying,” I answered. 

“Copying what?” 

“Well, I thought maybe it had something 
to do with the rebus-prize.” 

I said that right out, because it was n’t any 
use to pretend I had n’t suspected him, but he 
laughed again and did n’t get mad, at all. 

“ Oh ! ” he said, “ that all ? Well, it was n’t 
the rebus-prize. It was something I care 
more about just now.” 

“What?” 

“The pay-roll.” 

“The pay-roll?” 

“Yes. They promised me a raise, and I 
wanted to know if I ’m going to get it. I saw 
the department pay-roll on Paine’s desk, and 
I rubbered.” 

“But what were you copying?” I asked. 

“I wasn’t copying. I was just figuring 
up how much more I’d get in a month with my 
raise.” 


[ 60 ] 


TRESPASSING 


He put his hand in his pocket and pulled 
out a paper and showed it to me. It had 
just figures on it, and it looked like what he 
said. But just then we heard other steps in 
the oflSce, and the second I heard them I 
knew it was Mr. Paine coming now, all right, 
so we stopped talking and just waited. In 
a minute he came in, too, and said good- 
morning, and then he went on into his room 
just as he always did. 

I had turned to look again at the paper Tom 
was holding, because I thought it was queer 
he should write so long over just a little adding 
up of what he had said, when I heard Mr. 
Paine say something sharp, out loud, and next 
second he was back in our room, looking at 
us as if we were two thieves. 

“Who has been in my room.?” he asked. 


[ 61 ] 


CHAPTER V 

UNDER SUSPICION 

JF Mr. Paine had looked at me all the time 
instead of at Tom most of the time, I 
guess he would have known that I knew who 
had been in the room. But just the minute 
he asked the question, Tom answered right 
up quick, and so much as if he had n’t done 
anything that you could hardly believe he ’d 
been in the room at all, unless you ’d seen 
him as I did. 

“Who’s been in your room.^^” he repeated, 
looking up at Mr. Paine, as surprised as pos- 
sible. “ Why, nobody ’s been in there since 
we came in, has there, Walter 

He turned to me, as he said that, but he 
did n’t give me any chance to answer. 

“ We’ve been here quite a few minutes, both 
of us, and I got here first. There was n’t 
anybody in your room when I came in.” 

“Did you go in there Mr. Paine asked, 
with his quick, sort of snappy way. 

[ 62 ] 


UNDER SUSPICION 


“ Oh, yes, sir,” Tom said. “ I was in there.” 
He emphasized the 7, and opened his eyes 
wide again, innocent as could be. 

“Did you open the package on my desk.^^” 

Tom just looked at him, puzzled and not 
a bit ashamed, and I began to think that 
maybe he was innocent after all. I had 
thought he was lying, till he admitted that he 
had been in the room, but that surprised me 
so I could n’t tell what to think. 

“ Why,” he answered, after a minute, “ what 
package 

“A package on my desk, I said,” answered 
Mr. Paine. 

“Why, no, sir,” said Tom. “I didn’t 
touch anything on your desk. I just went in 
to look out of your window at the clock up 
the avenue. You can’t see it from our win- 
dow.” 

I knew it was true that you could only see 
that clock from the private-oflSice window, 
and Mr. Paine knew it, too. Of course, Tom 
had told me that he looked at the pay-roll on 
Mr. Paine’s desk, but that did n’t mean that 

[ 63 ] 


THE SILVER CAN OE 


he had opened any package, and I did n’t 
know that there was anything very bad about 
looking at the pay-roll ; so I began to be afraid 
Tom would get caught, and to hope he 
would n’t. I thought maybe he had n’t really 
lied at all. 

“ Were you in my room.^” asked Mr. Paine 
suddenly of me. 

I had n’t been. I had only gone to the 
doorway; so I said “No, sir,” right away, and 
Tom instantly said that he knew I had n’t 
been in there. Mr. Paine looked puzzled and 
anxious. He turned half away, then looked 
back, then suddenly went out into the outer 
office, and we heard him ask the book-keeper, 
who had come in earlier, if he had seen any- 
body in our offices. Of course, the book- 
keeper said no, too; and then Mr. Paine 
went on out into the aisles and across the 
floor, as if he were going to ask some one 
else. 

“ Don’t you tell, will you said Tom to me, 
as soon as Mr. Paine was out of hearing. 

“Tell what.?” I asked. 

[ 64 ] 


UNDER SUSPICION 


“Anything about the pay-roll,” Tom an- 
swered, looking at me kind of funny. 

“No — of course not!” 

“I told him just the truth,” said Tom. “He 
don’t have to know that I saw the pay-roll. 
That don’t hurt anybody.” 

I did n’t feel just exactly right about it, but 
I knew I did n’t have to tell, because I was n’t 
mixed up in it at all. If Tom did n’t tell the 
truth it was his own fault; and if he did, then 
he was all right. Anyway, there was n’t ^ny 
reason why I had to find out whether he had 
told the truth or not. It was n’t really any of 
my business to try. 

Well, Mr. Paine came back pretty soon, 
and he was still scowling, but he seemed just 
as if he had forgotten all about us, for he 
never looked over at us at all, but just went 
into his room and shut the door, and we could 
hear him moving around as he always did, 
with a lot of noise. There is only a ground- 
glass partition between our room and his, 
anyway, and you can hear pretty plain. 

We had some things that we always had to 
[ 65 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


do every morning, around the office, so we 
began those, and by the time we got them 
done, all the regular morning business was 
started in the store. I guess perhaps it was 
half an hour afterwards that Mr, Paine called 
me into his office. 

“Walter!” he called. 

I was afraid he was going to ask me ques- 
tions again, but he did n’t. He just handed 
me some papers, marked for different depart- 
ments, and told me to go around with them. 
I had hardly had time to think about Mr. 
Mallory and the canoeing, since I had found 
Tom in the office, but this gave me my chance 
to go to the sporting-goods department, and 
I went there first. 

“Father says I can go canoeing with you,” I 
told Mr. Mallory, as soon as I could find him. 

“Good!” he said. “We’ll have some fun. 
We’ll leave here right after lunch, then, Sat- 
urday noon. Better wear your old clothes.” 

“Where shall we go.^” I asked. 

“I have n’t decided just yet, but somewhere 
down the river,” he answered. 

[ 66 ] 


UNDER SUSPICION 


He went in behind the railing where the 
silver canoe was, and motioned to me with 
his head. 

“Come in here,” he went on. “I want to 
know how this paddle is for weight for you.” 

I went in behind that railing pretty quick. 
He opened the show-case, and reaching in over 
the belts and hunting-knives and things he 
picked out a dandy double paddle. In another 
minute it was in my hands, and, I tell you, 
you ought to have felt it! Say, it was so light 
and so easy to handle that I knew I could 
learn to paddle fine with it. It was so clean 
and bright and new, but not a cheap kind of 
new, for the canoe was good and so was the 
paddle and everything else. Mr. Mallory 
said it was the best of its kind made, and I ’ve 
heard other people who know say so, too. 

Well, Mr. Mallory told me to, and I got 
into the canoe in its rests there in the show- 
room. I never had been in a real one before, 
but I had rowed a boat quite a good many 
times with father, and had seen canoes and 
knew something about how they were handled. 

[ 67 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


I thought I could hardly wait till Saturday 
for a chance to put the paddle down into real 
water. 

“Kneel on the cushion in the bottom,” Mr. 
Mallory said. 

He started to show me how, but I knew, 
and I knelt down and held the paddle the way 
it should go. Of course there was only the 
floor under me, so^I could only pretend to 
paddle but I could imagine how it would be 
to glide out on the river, soft and still and 
light and swift. 

“You do know how, don’t you.^” Mr. 
Mallory said, laughing at me because I was 
so much interested. Then, as I climbed out 
again, he added, “and that canoe is just the 
thing for you.” 

I could hardly let go of the paddle. It 
seemed as if it ought to belong to me, and I 
was hoping and hoping that it would in just 
a little while after that. But I did n’t say 
anything, for I was getting so I did n’t want 
to talk about the rebus much. Besides, I 
had n’t worked any more on it since Gracia 
[ 68 ] 


UNDER SUSPICION 


and I stopped, the day before. But when I 
went back downstairs I just meant to have 
that silver canoe, I can tell you, and I was 
eager to see Gracia and ask her to work with 
me on the puzzle again that noon. 

But when I got back into our office, I found 
Tom sitting near Mr. Paine’s door and the 
minute he saw me, he held up his hand for 
me to be quiet. 

“Sh-sh!” he said. “Listen.” 

Mr. Paine was telephoning in his room and 
you could hear what he said almost as plain 
as if he were in the same room with us. He 
was talking to Mr. Redfern, the owner of the 
printing-office, where I had been the day 
before. And this is how it sounded, just as 
I began to hear it and from that time on. 

“ Oh, this is Redfern, is it ? Yes — this 
is Paine. I wanted to ask you who brought 
over this package of stuff from your place this 
morning. — Who ? — Oh, . Partridge himself, 
eh? Well, I found the package on my desk 
looking as if it had been opened. I can’t 
imagine who touched it. How was it wrapped ? 

[ 69 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


— In manilla paper — yes, of course; but 
was it tied up ? — It was ? Well the string 
might have come loose, I suppose, but strings 
don’t ordinarily loosen themselves without 
the help of hands. If the package did n’t 
contain the answers to the rebus, I would n’t 
think anything about it; but, as it is, I’m 
suspicious.” 

I had listened to all this, because it came 
so fast and sudden that I could n’t help it. 
As Mr. Paine stopped now, and seemed to 
be listening, I turned to look at Tom, for this 
made me suspicious of him again. But he 
was n’t looking toward me and was just wait- 
ing to hear some more. Then, in a second, 
Mr. Paine began talking again. 

“If I understand you,” he said into the 
telephone, “you mean one of our boys. Which 
one ? — What ? — The smaller one, eh ? That ’s 
McDonald. Why do you think he could read 
the form ? — he ’s never worked in a printing- 
office.” 

I knew then what they were talking about. 
It was very sure that Mr. Redfern was telling 

[ 70 ] 


UNDER SUSPICION 


Mr. Paine about his seeing me look at the 
type-form of the answers to the rebus-puzzle, 
and that they thought that might have some- 
thing to do with the opening of the package 
on Mr. Paine’s desk. It was easy to under- 
stand now, that the package had the printed 
answers to the puzzle in it, so Mr. Redfern 
probably thought that I had found it out, and 
had tried to see the sheets because I knew 
what was on them. 

Well, that made me feel very queer. First, 
I was mad that Mr. Redfern should think 
such a thing, and then I remembered that I 
had seen the one picture of the fish and the 
letters with the answer to it underneath and 
I had kept still about that. I did n’t intend 
to use that word unless Gracia or Tom guessed 
it, but it made me feel guilty just the same, 
though I could n’t understand why. But 
Mr. Paine went on talking into the phone. 

“Well,” he was saying, “I have n’t known 
young McDonald very long, but he looks to 
me like an honest youngster. — What? — You 
would n’t trust any of them ? Well, that ’s 

[ 71 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


hardly fair, Redfern. Why do you trust 
Partridge ? He ’s only a man you have known 
to do the honest thing by you before. I think 
a boy can be judged by his reputation just 
as fairly.” 

They talked a little while longer, but I 
don’t believe I listened very much, because 
I began to think about that thing that Mr. 
Paine said. Mr. Paine did know I was 
honest; and I was honest, so I did n’t need 
to be afraid. I had seen the type-form, but 
I had n’t opened the package on the desk, so 
I did n’t know anything about the rebus- 
puzzle that I had n’t a good right to know, 
except about the one picture I would n’t use. 
It .was all as square as could be that way, I 
felt sure. 

Well, after the telephoning was over, I ex- 
pected Mr. Paine would call me in to see him 
again, but he did n’t, and before very long he 
came out with his hat on, ready to go out of 
the store. He gave us some work to do, 
folding circulars that had n’t anything to do 
with the rebus-puzzle, and he did n’t say a 

[ 72 ] 


UNDER SUSPICION 


word about the thing we were thinking most 
about. 

After he was gone Tom began talking. 
He had n’t said a word to me since the tele- 
phoning till then, but he began by laughing 
at me, as if he thought the joke was on me. 

“They got you mixed up in it, McDonald,” 
he said. 

“I don’t think so,” I answered, for it pro- 
voked me a little to have him put it that way. 

“What did you do over to Redfern’s ” he 
asked. 

“Nothing.” 

“Oh, yes, there was something.” 

“It’s only what they thought I did.” 

“What did they think 

He was following me up so that it made me 
madder than I had been before. 

“You’ll have to ask them, if you want to 
know,” I answered. 

“Humph!” he said, looking at me a little 
disgusted. 

We worked without talking very much for 
a while, but I knew Tom was thinking all the 

[ 73 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


time about something, for he would stop 
folding every once in a while and just stare 
at the window, or look at me and grin. But 
at last he got up from the table and went to 
Mr. Paine’s room door and looked in. 

“I ’d like to get another look,” he said. 

“You’d better keep out of there,” I an- 
swered. 

“Why.?” 

“Because you’ll get into trouble.” 

“No, I won’t.” 

“Mr. Paine is suspicious now.” 

“Well, what if he is.? He does n’t know 
anything.” 

“He’ll find out, though.” 

“Will he.? Well, I’ll take a chance, I 
guess.” 

He turned away from the door and looked 
out into the main oflSce a minute ot two. Then 
he closed the door of the main office and 
turned to look at me and wink. 

“What are you going to do?” I asked him. 

“Take another rubber,” he said. 

“Don’t you do it,” I answered quick; for 

[ 74 ] 


UNDER SUSPICION 


I was afraid now of what he would do, and 
I ’d had trouble enough, with maybe more to 
come. 

“Who’ll stop me.^” he asked. “You.^” 

“Never mind,” I said. “You keep out of 
Mr. Paine’s room while I ’m here, that’s all.” 

“Oh!” he said, coming across to where I 
was sitting. “Is that the way you feel.^^ 
Well now, sonny, don’t you be too smart 
with me, for I ’ll do just as I like. I helped 
you out this morning, now you just keep still 
about what I do.” 

“How did you help me out.?^” 

“ I did n’t tell Mr. Paine that you were in 
his office.” 

“I was n’t in his office.” 

“You stepped inside.” 

“I didn’t.” 

“ Well you did — or you might as well 
have.” 

“Nothing of the sort. Besides, you know 
why I looked in,” I said. 

“No, I don’t. You looked in before you 
saw me.” 


[ 75 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Not before I heard you.” 

He looked at me quick. “ Heard me what 

“Heard you rattling paper.” 

“I did n’t.” 

“Then it was rats or mice or something.” 

“ I guess you did n’t hear anything.” 

“Well, you guess wrong, and I know I 
heard you.” 

I was getting pretty angry, and so I spoke 
rather hot, I think. 

“Well,” he answered, turning away. “You 
listen some more, and maybe you’ll hear me 
again.” 

He started toward Mr. Paine’s room again, 
but I jumped up quick and got between him 
and the door. 

“Don’t you go in there while I’m in the 
office,” I said. 

He stopped and looked all over me, up and 
down. 

“ What ’ll you do if I go ?” he asked. 

“ I ’ll call somebody,” I answered. 

“And tell on me,” he added. “That ’s the 
kind you are, is it?” 


[ 76 ] 


UNDER SUSPICION 


“It is not, and you know it. I did n’t tell 
on you this morning, when I could easily.” 

“But you will now, will you.^ Well, tell 
away, all you know. You don’t know a 
thing.” 

“I know you were in Mr. Paine’s office this 
morning.” 

“So does Mr. Paine know that. What of 
it.?” 

I ju^t looked at him. I did n’t know what 
to say. That was so, and I was n’t sure of 
anything else, no matter what I might think. 
But I stood still just the same. 

“You know that they talked about me over 
the phone this morning. Now, I don’t want 
to get into any more trouble. If you go in 
that room again. I’ll have to tell, because Mr. 
Paine will find out somebody ’s been in there 
and he ’ll blame me.” 

Tom stood looking at me, not very pleasant, 
but as if what I said made him think of some- 
thing else. In a minute, he turned away with 
just a grin. 

“Aw, say,” he said, “I ain’t going to fight 

[ 77 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


with you. We’re going to work for that 
prize together. I guess probably you ’re right, 
too. I ain’t got any business looking at that 
pay-roll.” 


[ 78 ] 


CHAPTER VI 

AN ACCIDENT 


ELL, that surprised me, but it made me 



think Tom meant all right, too. He 
must be sort of a decent fellow, or he would n’t 
be so ready to give up and talk about it so. 
You can’t get over being suspicious of any- 
body, all in a second, but as he turned back 
to our table and began to work again, I 
thought perhaps I was too ready to think he 
was n’t wanting to do the right thing. 

But we began working together again, and 
pretty soon Tom pulled out a paper with the 
rebus-puzzle in it and laid it on the desk 
between us. 

“How much have you worked?” he asked. 

“I ’ve worked only a little of it,” I said. 

“Look,” he went on, and pointed. '‘The 
highest awards made for piano excellence are 
those received by the Shellwin — ” 


“Hold on— hold on!” I said. “How 


[ 79 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


much have you worked ? That ’s farther than 
I got, and I want to see how it makes the 
words.” 

He had started to read the puzzle right off 
and I could n’t see the pictures fast enough. 

“Oh,” he answered. “Well, how far did 
you get.?” 

“I got just to excellence/' I said. 

“ Well, the next thing is the letter R, which 
means a-r-e, are. Then comes a T and the 
coiled up thing there with it is a hose, that 
makes T-hose, those. The next is received. 
The musical note is re — don’t you know ? 
In school we say ‘do, re, me, fa, sol,’ and all 
that? That’s re, and CVD make received." 

“Well, that looks all right,” I said. “Only 
you go so fast, it seems as if it could hardly 
be true.” 

“ I told you it was easy,” he said. 

“How much more have you got?” I asked. 

“Oh, the names of the pianos, that’s all. 
They’re a cinch : — Shellwin — the shell and 
two letters UU and the inn — Shell-w-in, 
Shellwin. Then the ball — the eye, then 
[ 80 ] 


AN ACCIDENT 


N G, and then the deaf-mute signs for t and o 
and 71 , all put together make Ballington. The 
stag is a buck, and there is i-n-g for ing, and a 
ham, for ham — Buckingham, Then there’s 
a mountain and a diamond — that ’s Mountain 
Gem, another piano name; and last is Mill- 
ward, plain as any of them, with the mill and 
another map of a ward.” 

“Those are all the piano names,” I said. 

“Sure,” he answered. “Easy as pie.” 

“You ’ve got a lot of it,” I said. 

“Of course. I’ve been working. Why 
don’t you work?” 

“I have n’t had much time, but I ’m going 
to.” 

“ Well, hurry up. I don’t want to do all the 
work and give you half the prize.” 

“I don’t want you to, either,” I answered to 
that; and I made up my mind that I would n’t 
let him read any more to me until I had it all 
worked out — that is, till Gracia and I had 
done it, because I wanted her to have a share. 

Well, he put away the puzzle and we talked 
a while, about what we’d do if we won; and 
[ 81 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


I began to feel better than I had all the morn- 
ing, for I was pretty sure, if Tom had seen the 
rebus-puzzle answers, he would have showed 
that he had, some way. And he seemed quite 
friendly too, as if he had n’t meant what he 
said about going into Mr. Paine’s room again 
and was trying to make up to me for acting 
mean at first over it. So I just stopped think- 
ing about it at all, and, by the time noon came, 
we were very good friends again. 

I went to the cloak-room and found Gracia 
as soon as I left Tom. I wanted to tell her 
all the things we had gotten, and to go on 
guessing with her. She was waiting for me, 
too, and while we were eating our lunch, we 
found out several more words. Where Tom 
left off, the next word was the of with a line 
through it, and we could n’t see what that was. 
Of course, the two pianos meant pianos, and 
the next was a bee and i-n-g, being. After 
that came another T-he, the, and Grand Prix, 
which means grand prize, and the words at 
the. Then came the pod full of peas, and we 
could n’t guess that, for the next word seemed 
[ 82 ] 


AN ACCIDENT 


to be Paris, with the P and A and R all in one 
monogram, as they call it, and the eye and s 
making the rest of it. So we went on, and 
found out easily the MCM, meaning 1900, 
and the globe and S, meaning World* s. Then 
the man with the camera I guessed to mean 
expose; and right after that Gracia showed 
me that the iti was on the and, in the next 
picture which made — expose-iti-on-and, or 
exposition and. Then it was easy to read — 
two grand prizes, St Louis, 1904, and then — 
no other American Manufacturer ever received 
this recognition. I guess, if you look care- 
fully at the puzzle, you can study it out from 
this without my explaining. 

But when we got to Thee we were puzzled, 
for we did n’t know what to call it ; and 
while we were still working, the bell rang, 
and it was time to stop and go to work again. 
When I got up to Mr. Paine’s office, Tom 
was n’t there, but Mr. Paine was, and he 
called me into the private office-room, right 
away. 

“McDonald,” he said, holding out an en- 

[ 83 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


velope to me, “ here is something I ’m very 
particular about. I want it to go to the 
printing-office — Redfern’s — as quickly as 
possible. It ’s about this rebus-prize, so be 
careful. I suppose you know about the rebus- 
prize 

He did n’t look at me at first; but as he 
asked the last question, he turned his eyes on 
me quickly and looked straight at me, keen 
as could be. 

“Yes, sir,” I said, and I looked back at 
him, for I knew I had n’t done anything that 
was n’t right about it, and I knew that I 
would n’t, either. 

“Well!” he said, “this is important, so 
take care of it.” 

I took the envelope and started out. I 
went to the coat-room and got my hat and 
then down through the store and out to the 
street. I held the envelope in my hand, for 
I was anxious to take the best care I knew 
how of it. It was n’t sealed, and I held it so 
as to hold the envelope flap down tight. 

But I’d only gone a little way when some- 

[ 84 ] 


AN ACCIDENT 


body came out of the street crowd suddenly 
and caught hold of my arm. 

“Hello, Walter,” he said, and I looked up 
and saw Tom. 

“Hello,” I answered. 

“Where are you going he asked. 

“To Redfern’s.” 

“What you got.^^” 

“ Copy, I guess,” I said. That ’s what they 
call the stuff you send to printers to be printed. 

“ What kind — rebus ? ” asked Tom. 
“Let’s see.” 

He reached for the envelope quick, before 
I ’d thought of such a thing as that he might, 
and in a second he had caught it right out of 
my hand. 

“Hold on,” I cried, and I tried to get the 
envelope again. “Give that back! Mr. 
Paine said for me to be careful of it. It ’s 
important.” 

But Tom held it away from me. “All 
right. Don’t be in a hurry. I won’t hurt 
it,” he answered. 

“But I want it right now,” I said. 

[ 85 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Well, I want to know what it’s about.” 

“It ’s no affair of yours.” 

“Well, maybe you think it ain’t. I think 
different.” 

He turned his back to me and began to 
look at the envelope. He was bigger than I 
was then, and I knew I could n’t do much 
with him. Lots of people were passing, but 
nobody I knew, and I did n’t want to holler 
out to a strange person to help me. I could n’t 
do anything, but try to get around in front of 
him and stop him from opening the envelope 
if I could. But as fast as I’d circle around 
he’d turn and keep the envelope out of my 
reach, till at last I caught hold of his arm and 
held him. 

“Now I ’ll tell you just one thing,” I said. 
“ If you don’t give me that envelope, or if you 
open it, I ’ll go back to Mr. Paine and tell him 
everything I know. And some of it will come 
pretty close to you, too,” I said. 

He stopped struggling with me for a minute, 
but he still held the envelope out of my reach. 
He had his fingers inside of it, too, as if he 
[ 86 ] 


AN ACCIDENT 


were just ready to pull out the note or what- 
ever it was there. 

“Now look here,” he said. “You’re aw- 
fully good, are n’t you ? You’re so nice that 
you ’d spoil if they ’d put you out in the sun 
long. You ’re mamma’s boy, you are. 
You ’re just the kind that runs and tells. 
What have I done.^” 

It made me just about wild to hear him say 
those things. I hate a “ goody-goody,” as they 
call a boy who pretends always to be so awfully 
good, and that was what Tom meant I was. 
But there ’s a difference between being a 
goody-goody and being on the square, and I 
think any fellow can be square. He has a 
right to be, and nobody has any right to make 
him do anything that is n’t. Father says a 
fellow can only be one of two things — square 
or a sneak; and I don’t believe anybody 
would like to be the last. So I just made up 
my mind, then, that I was done with Tom 
Moultrie and that I ’d have that envelope if 
I had to fight for it. 

I took hold of his sleeve and then I just 

[ 87 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


jumped at him and pulled his arm, and, next 
second I had my arms around his neck and 
was hanging on tight. 

“Give me that envelope,” I said. “You 
give it to me,” and I squeezed as hard as I 
could. 

“Quit, let go, stop!” Tom holloed, and he 
backed right off the pavement, carrying me 
with him; and next second there were a lot 
of cries, and people holloed all around us; 
and then something struck us, and we went 
down on the wet asphalt. And I felt, all at 
once, an awful pinch on my foot, and it hurt 
so that I just screamed; and then everything 
turned dark and darker till I could n’t see or 
think, but just fainted dead away. 


[ 88 ] 


CHAPTER VII 

A BUSY PRISONER 

T^ID you ever faint clear away? If you 
did, you know how queer it feels. You 
get hurt, or something, and you feel sick all 
over and then a sort of cloud seems to come 
around your eyes; and then, all at once, you 
find yourself just waking up, and you don’t 
know what ’s happened or where you are or 
how long you’ve been there. 

That was the way I felt, and when I woke up 
I did n’t know any more for a minute or two 
than as if the things I’ve been telling about 
had n’t ever happened. When I first' looked 
around, I was in the basement of the store, 
in the shipping-room. I was lying down on 
a big pile of burlaps, and I looked right 
straight up at the whitewashed ceiling when 
I opened my eyes. 

The first thing I knew was that my face was 
all wet and somebody was sprinkling water 

[ 89 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


on me. It felt queer, and I turned my face 
one side. And then I knew two things, both 
at once. One was where I was, as I said, 
and the other was that my foot was hurting 
dreadfully. 

“ Oh, he ’s coming to, all right,” somebody 
said, and I looked toward where the voice was 
and saw Mr. Grandin, who is the boss of the 
shipping-room and who is a good friend of 
mine. He came and stooped over me right 
away, too, and spoke in a more gentle way 
than I ever heard him before. 

“ It ’s all right, son,” he said, like that. And 
then, “Your foot’s twisted a little. I guess 
the auto must have caught you there. Does 
it hurt.?” 

It did, but a lot of people were around now, 
most of them the boys who worked on the 
wagons and who knew me, so I did n’t want 
to play baby. 

“Not so very much,” I said. 

“How’d it happen.?” asked Mr. Grandin. 

“I don’t know,” I answered. 

Just then I saw Tom Moultrie in the crowd 

[ 90 ] 


A BUSY PRISONER 


and he was looking at me hard and shaking 
his head. He did n’t want me to tell. It 
was plain that he had n’t got hurt, though his 
clothes were all covered with dirt. I remem- 
bered all about everything as soon as I looked 
at him, the envelope for the printers, and the 
fight we were having for it, arid all. 

“Where’s the envelope.^” I asked, right 
out quick, because I was afraid, all at once, 
that it was lost. 

“What envelope asked Mr. Grandin; 
but Tom held it up where I could see that he 
had it. It was all blackened with dirt from 
the street, but it seemed to be safe. So I just 
kept still. 

Mr. Grandin looked anxious then, and said 
to somebody beside him that he thought maybe 
my head was hurt, because my question 
sounded crazy to him, and that made me laugh 
in spite of the hurt in my foot. 

“No,” I said, “I’m all right. Can’t I get 
up.^” And I tried to sit up without waiting. 

I was pretty dizzy, because I guess I had 
got a bump on the head, but it was n’t very. 

[ 91 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


bad. Mr. Grandin helped to lift me, too, 
and set me so my back was against the wall. 
But when I looked at my foot, I found that 
the shoe and stocking had been taken off and 
the foot was all red and scraped so that it was 
bleeding and there was dirt all around it. 

“What happened I asked. 

“A motor-car hit you,” one of the boys said. 

“How’d you happen to get in the way.?^” 
Mr. Grandin said. 

“I was fooling,” I answered. I thought 
it was no use to tell everybody about it. 

“Somebody said you two were fighting,” 
said Mr. Grandin, looking around at Tom. 

“ We had a fuss,” I said. 

I stooped down and felt of my foot. I was 
afraid it was all broken up because it looked 
so bad. But I knew when I took hold of it 
that it could n’t be or it would hurt worse to 
move it, so I began to feel better. Just then 
the doctor came, too, for they had sent for one, 
and after he had washed and fussed around 
it a while, he said I ’d be all right in a few days, 
only lame probably for a while, till the sore- 

[ 92 ] 



“ ‘Give me that envelope,’ I said” 



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A BUSY PRISONER 


ness was gone. Then one of the boys said it 
was a wonder we did n’t get hurt worse ; and I 
guess it was, for he told me we fell right in 
front of the automobile, and that it looked as 
if it ran right over us. 

Well, after a little time, they said I’d better 
be sent home. I did n’t want to go, for there 
were so many things I wanted to do that it 
seemed to me I just could n’t leave the store. 
But after I tried to stand up, when the doctor 
was gone, and nearly fainted away again, I 
thought I’d have to. So I told Tom to take 
the envelope back upstairs to Mr. Paine and 
ask if he should carry it to Redfern’s, and then 
I let them put me into Andy Fenner’s wagon, — 
for Andy came in from a trip while I was in 
the shipping-room, — and he drove me home. 

Mother was scared when I got to the house, 
but she was glad when she found nothing much 
was the matter. Of course, father was n’t 
home then, so she and Andy helped me in, 
and I had to laugh because I was like a man 
with a wooden leg, or something. I could 
only just hop and hang on to them. But 

[ 93 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


when I got in and Andy had gone, mother put 
me in a big rocker in the parlor, with my foot 
on another chair and made as much trouble 
over me as if I were sick. And then, what do 
you think.? I went to sleep and slept all the 
rest of that day, till father came home. 

Of course, I told father and mother about 
how I got hurt. They asked all kinds of 
questions, too, but father said he did n’t blame 
me for trying to get the envelope, only he 
could n’t understand why Tom wanted to take 
it away from me. But I did n’t tell about 
the rebus-prize then, and I guess it was the 
first time I ever kept still about anything at 
home, that way. I was sort of ashamed to 
tell, for I was afraid father ’d say that I ought 
not to be working on it, and I did n’t want him 
to say that; so I did something that was dif- 
ferent from what you usually do with your 
father : I let him think something that was n’t 
just exactly so — that Tom was just mean 
and wanted to bother me. And then, if I 
had n’t just teased him, he would have written 
right away to Mr. Paine, a letter telling him 

[ 94 ] 


A BUSY PRISONER 


about it, because he said he would n’t have 
another boy making trouble for me. But, at 
last, when I said he ought to let me take care 
of myself, he sort of thought it over and said 
he guessed so too. 

Well, it seems strange that it should happen 
just that way, and I had n’t thought about it 
till I heard mother and father talking it over 
that night, but they had planned to go away 
for father’s vacation that week. They nearly 
always do go together when father has his 
vacation time in the summer, and this summer 
they were going to the place where father used 
to live when he was a boy. When I heard 
them talking, they were worrying about 
whether my foot was going to bother long 
enough so that I could n’t get out of the house 
before the day they wanted to go. And then 
I heard a plan that interested me very much 
and that made a lot of difference with this 
story. 

Mother had it all fixed up. They were to 
go away the next week Thursday, and I was 
to go and live at the house of Mrs. Fairbanks, 

,[ 95 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


next door; only I was n’t to board there, 
because she could n’t let me, mother said. 
And so father said I could get my breakfasts 
and suppers at the restaurant over on an 
avenue, near our house, and have my lunches 
down town while they were gone. 

Well, but I was glad to hear that plan! I 
thought all at once, that it would give me a 
chance to surprise them very much, for if we 
should win the rebus-prize, then I could have 
all that money when father and mother got 
back, and I would buy them some dandy 
things besides getting the silver canoe for 
myself, and maybe a tent or something like 
that. And so when mother told me about it 
next morning, I told them I ’d heard what they 
said, and that I was sure my foot would be all 
right by that time, and that I wanted to do 
just the very thing they had planned. 

Father had our own doctor come to look at 
my foot that next day, and he said I could n’t 
get out before a week was over. So I had 
just to wait. But I worked on the rebus- 
puzzle again, and do you know, I got nearly 

[ 96 ] 


A BUSY PRISONER 


all the words, too. You know we left off last 
with the word Thee which we could n’t solve, 
but I guessed it to be these because there were 
two E's, Then there was the R which of 
course was are and then the word I’d seen in 
the type-form — offtciaL I wrote out all the 
other words we ’d guessed, but I left a blank 
under the fish picture, because I would n’t 
put that word down myself. Then I went on 
and guessed all around at different words. 

It was n’t very hard to read the words fol- 
lowing official^ because the picture showed 
little girls going up to a church with veils on, 
and that looked like confirmation, like they 
have in Andy Fenner’s church. Andy and I 
are good friends and it was at his church that 
I saw confirmation once, so I knew what it 
looks like. Then the word fitted in, too, 
because the next words were quite easy — of 
what every one already knows, I had quite a 
time guessing knows, but it seemed to be the 
word that had to go in there, so I put it in, and 
then I could see that the boy who is figuring 
at the blackboard in the picture, knows be- 

[ 97 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


cause his example is added up right. Then 
came — of the one-der-full, wonderful, su-pear- 
i-oar-i-ty, superiority, of the Shellwin pro- 
duck-t, product. 

I stopped there and thought I had the whole 
of the puzzle except the peas in the pod up 
above, for I supposed the word all at the end, 
under the duck, meant that that was the end. 
But all at once I thought that it must mean 
something more, and then it came into my 
mind that if all was under the duck, then the 
duck was over all. So I could see right away 
that it should read superiority of the Shellwin 
product over all. 

I was as much excited as ever, then, over 
the whole thing, and I thought I was pretty 
smart to get it all. And, just as I was thinking 
about that, I noticed the funny little thing over 
the word superiority that I had n’t even seen 
before, and I could n’t make out what it was 
at all. Maybe you’ll know before I tell you 
but I did n’t know at all. I guessed and 
guessed and could n’t tell, until at last I had 
to give up because I got so tired. 

[ 98 ] 


A BUSY PRISONER 


The next day would be Saturday, and I 
kept thinking about that, because it was the 
day I had promised to go canoeing with Mr, 
Mallory, and now I could n’t. I felt pretty 
bad about it, but I kept saying over to myself 
that I’d get a canoe of my own some day pretty 
soon, and then I could go every free Saturday 
afternoon. 

But Mr. Mallory came to see me the next 
day, on his way out to the river, and I thought 
it was fine of him; and he brought his fishing- 
tackle and showed it to me and to father, who 
is home Saturday afternoons, too. He talked 
to father about letting me have a canoe and, 
before he left, what do you think — father 
said I could have the silver canoe if I earned 
it or paid for it out of the money I was earning. 

I was pretty nearly crazy then, I guess, to 
think I had to wait a minute, and could hardly 
talk about anything at all but that canoe! I 
could just think how I would go camping 
with some fellow I liked, and how we would 
build a brush-house, and live in it in the 
woods, and have my canoe to ride in, and have 

[ 99 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


long days of fishing and exploring. Oh say, 
but that seemed fine to me ! 

But, then I had another person come to see 
me, and that was Gracia. She came all the 
way from the store to find out how I was. 
She would only stay a minute or two, but that 
was long enough for me to tell her the words 
I ’d worked out on the rebus, and she was as 
much pleased over it as I was, and seemed 
sure I was right. But she had n’t guessed 
what the peas in the pod meant and could n’t 
think then what the funny little thing over 
the superiority picture was. And she said 
she had guessed a long time over the fish 
picture and had n’t solved that. I came very 
near telling her what the fish picture meant, 
without thinking; but I did n’t. When she 
went away, she said she would be the first one 
to guess all three; and I hoped she would, for 
then I would have a right to send in our an- 
swers and yet know that they were probably 
right. 

Sunday went by then, and the days after- 
wards pretty slowly. Two or three of the 
[ 100 ] 


A BUSY PRISONER 


boys came to see me, and Andy Fenner was 
one; but Tom didn’t come. I thought he 
might have, because it was really his fault I 
got hurt. I thought maybe Gracia would 
come again, but she did n’t; and Tuesday 
and Wednesday it seemed as if I could n’t 
wait to know whether she had got the rest 
of the puzzle. I could n’t work the words 
that were left to do, and I got anxious because 
the time was going by so. But Wednesday 
night a letter came for me in the mail, and 
when I opened it, it was from Gracia; and 
it told me some news that made me more 
eager than I had been to get out and go back 
to the store. This was the letter: 

Dear Walter: 

“ The rebus-puzzle is all worked out. The 
thing over the superiority picture is a grate. 
Of course that means g-r-e-a-t, and it makes 
wonderful, great superiority of the Shellwin, etc. 

“ It does n’t sound very well, does it ? But 
I’m sure that’s all it can be, and Tom Moultrie 
says that ’s it, too. Tom ’s been down to see 
me. He says you told him we were working the 
rebus-puzzle together and he said he really 
showed you all the words you knew. I don’t 
[ 101 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


believe that, but anyway, he helped me on the 
last words. He says the peas in the pod just 
make the letter P to begin Paris, instead of 
the P being in the monogram, as we thought. 
Then the word with the fish in it is official. 
You can see that it is if you know. The rest 
we’ve guessed, so it all reads now like this: 

“ ‘ The highest awards ever made for piano 
excellence are those received by the Shellwin, 
Ballington, Buckingham, Mountain Gem, and 
Millward line of pianos, being the Grand 
Prix, at the Paris, 1900, World’s Exposition, 
and two Grand Prizes, St. Louis, 1904. No 
other American Manufacturer ever received 
this recognition. These are ofificial confirma- 
tions of what every one already knows of the 
wonderful, great superiority of the Shellwin 
product over all.’ 

“And so the whole thing is worked out now 
— just think! I know some people who are 
working on the puzzle and they have n’t got 
half the words. It does n’t seem to be very 
easy for some of them. Did Tom help you 
very much ? I think he thinks he is the whole 
thing. Hurry up and get well. 

“ Your friend, 

“ Gracia Tarrant.” 

I just laughed out loud, I felt so glad when 
I read that they had solved that word official^ 
for now it would be fair for me to use it in the 
[ 102 ] 


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THE SILVER CANOE 


answer, and I felt so much better about it all. 
I was almost sure now that we would win the 
prize. We could mail our answer just as soon 
as we could write it out, now, and it would 
be in early. The advertisement of the rebus- 
puzzle did n’t say it would make any difference 
if we mailed the answer early; but I thought 
it might, so I spent a lot of time getting ready 
just as good a copy as I could of it. The ad- 
vertisement said the neatest answer or the one 
with the best appearance would win if more 
than one was right. 


[ 104 ] 


CHAPTER VIII 

IN THE RIVER’S POWER 

next day my foot was well enough 
for me to step on it, and so I began to 
try to hobble around. I found I could get 
around better than I thought, too, and mother 
said that she guessed I ’d be well enough so 
she and father could go. 

And so that night she and father started. 
Mother did n’t like very well to leave me at 
the last, I guess; but I could walk pretty fair 
and promised I ’d be careful; and so they went, 
and I went over to Mrs. Fairbanks’s house, 
where I was going to sleep. 

But the last thing before father went away, 
he gave me some money — ten dollars, to pay 
for my meals while I was at the restaurant. 
That seemed to me like a lot of money, though 
I had six dollars of my own in my bank at 
home. But I just thought that my share of 
the rebus-prize would be three hundred dollars 
and that would be thirty times as much as 
[ 105 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


ten dollars, and I could hardly think what I 
could do with all that money. 

But I made up my mind I would try to get 
to the store Friday; and I did try and managed 
it, too, though I limped a good deal. 

Everybody who knew about my getting 
hurt was very nice to me, and I was surprised 
to find out how many knew. But Tom sur- 
prised me most, for he acted as if he had been 
most interested of all, and was so nice to me 
that I could hardly believe it. But I could n’t 
help thinking that maybe it was because he 
was anxious to get the rebus-puzzle all fixed 
up. I was n’t liking Tom at all, because I 
was sort of afraid of him and of what he would 
do, all the time. 

Well, I did n’t work much that morning, 
because I could n’t go any errands and there 
were n’t any circulars to fold; so Mr. Paine 
told me I’d better go home in the afternoon. 
He did n’t say anything about the message 
that I had had to deliver to Redfern’s on the 
day I got hurt, so I guessed that Tom had 
carried it all right. Tom told me he had. 

[ 106 ] 


IN THE RIVER’S POWER 


But I could n’t go home until I ’d had a 
chance to see Gracia at noon; and so Tom 
and I went down to the coat-room and talked 
with her about the puzzle then. And it was 
at that time that a new thing came up. 

“ I think you’d better let me take our answer 
and make a typewritten copy of it,” Gracia 
said. “I know one of the stenographers in 
the mail-order department and she’ll let me 
use the typewriter when I get a few minutes. 
You know, if two answers are right, the best- 
looking one will win.” 

“That’ll be fine,” I said. 

“And then you might just as well mail the 
answer right away,” Tom said. “We don’t 
need to wait any longer.” 

“All right,” Gracia said, and I said so, too, 
because it seemed like a good scheme. “But, 
oh, say,” she added, all at once, “what name 
shall I sign to it ” 

Well, I suppose it ’s funny, but I had n’t 
thought about that before. I guess I had 
just been so interested in all the other things 
that I had n’t gotten around to that. I had 
[ 107 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


thought a little about what Mr. Paine might 
think if he saw my name on an answer, but 
I ’d sort of forgotten it while we were working 
the puzzle out and while everything was hap- 
pening. But now it suddenly seemed that it 
was pretty uncertain what we’d better do; 
and what Tom said next minute startled me. 

“You can’t put any of our names on,” he 
said, looking at me. 

Gracia looked up, very quick. “Why 
not.^^” she asked. 

Tom laughed a little in a way that did n’t 
seem very nice. “ Because it would n’t be 
healthy,” he answered. 

“Not healthy!” Gracia repeated. “Why 
— why, that sounds as if you were afraid. 
What are you afraid of.^^” 

“Why, you don’t think they’re going to 
give the prize to anybody in the store, do you ?” 

“Why not?” 

“Because people outside would think it 
was n’t square.” 

“You mean they ’d think Maitland’s was n’t 
square?” 


[ 108 ] 


IN THE RIVER’S POWER 


“Of course.” 

Gracia stood still a minute and then she 
looked at me. “Well,” she said slowly, “if 
they would n’t give us the prize, knowing who 
we were, it would n’t be honest to get it in any 
other person’s name, would it.^” 

I can’t tell just how my thoughts went when 
she said that. I know I had thought the same 
thing two or three times, and I’d been troubled 
a lot about it, but when she turned and looked 
at me, so sort of questioning, it made me feel 
different. It made me kind of provoked at 
her. Father says you always feel that way 
when anybody else tells you that you are n’t 
doing the right thing, although you know it, 
all the time; and I really knew then that 
everything was n’t just the way it ought to be. 
So I began right away, to back up what Tom 
said, so as to make what we’d been doing 
seem all right to her, — and to myself, too. 

“There is n’t anything wrong about it,” I 
said. “ Don’t you remember, we talked about 
that, and I asked you what you thought, and 
you said you believed it was all right.?” 

[ 109 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Yes,” Gracia answered, “but i never 
thought we ’d have to use anybody else’s name 
to keep it all a secret. That makes it seem 
funny.” 

She was n’t so very certain about it, and 
because she was n’t, I began to feel more sure 
that it was all right. I guess she thought 
that, if I believed it was square, it probably 
was, and I know I was glad to think that she 
was n’t sure that it was n’t. So I just told 
her that I thought there was n’t anything 
really out of the way at all, and Tom said the 
same, only he laughed at us both for being so 
“finicky,” as he called it. He meant that we 
were just pretending to care. Gracia did n’t 
like that any more than I did, because she 
feels just about like a boy over things like that; 
so she asked Tom right away how we should 
manage it. 

“ Why,” Tom said, “ that ’s easy. I know a 
man whose name I can put on. He’s my uncle.” 

He looked at me, as if he wondered how I 
was going to think about that, but I could n’t 
see anything out of the way. 

[ 110 ] 


IN THE RIVER’S POWER 


“He lives quite a ways from the store, and 
we could have the piano sent out to him,” Tom 
added. 

Gracia and I both just looked at him, 
and then Gracia suddenly laughed. “You’re 
mighty sure we ’ll win,” she said. “I think 
it ’s a joke.” 

Well, we talked a long while, but from that 
time, Gracia seemed to think we ’d better do 
as Tom said, and the more we talked about it, 
the more I thought so, too. And so finally 
we decided that was what we would do. Tom 
said his uncle’s name was Mr. Ben Peck, and 
that he lived at No. 12 Drill Street. I did n’t 
even know where Drill Street was, but Tom 
told us it was in the city, so Gracia put down 
the name and address on a paper. And then, 
after we talked a little longer, she went back 
to the cashier’s room, and Tom went out to 
get his lunch, and I started for the elevated 
road. 

I had to go pretty slow, and I limped so 
that people stopped to look at me, because I 
guess they thought I ’d just got hurt that 
[ 111 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


minute. So I tried not to show it so much. 
But just as I got to the door nearest to the 
“ L,” as we call the elevated road, somebody 
called out to me, and I turned around to see 
Mr. Mallory. 

“Hello, there, old man,” he said, coming up 
to me pretty quick. He quite often calls me 
“old man,” and you know you like to have a 
man talk to you like that. “Where are you 
bound for.^^” 

“Home,” I answered. 

“Foot pretty bad.^” he asked. “I knew 
you by your limp.” 

“Not so very,” I said. “But I can’t do 
much yet.” 

“What are you going to do at home.^” he 
went on. 

“Nothing,” I said, for it sounded as if 
maybe he had a plan. 

“I’ve got to drive out in the country this 
afternoon,” he said, “and get some decoy 
ducks a fellow bought from us and did n’t 
pay for. Want to go along 

That seemed like a fine chance for a ride, 
[ 112 ] 


IN THE RIVER’S POWER 


so I said yes, right away, for I knew mother 
would let me go if she knew. I told him I 
would, and then he said something else that 
made me so glad I ’d met him that I could 
have holloed. 

“ We ’ll take the long wagon, if you like, and 
drive by my house and get my canoe, too,” 
he said. “This is your chance to have a 
little canoeing to make up for last Saturday.” 

Well, he went upstairs to get some things 
and told me to meet him at that same door of 
the store, after lunch, and that the horses we 
were going to have would be there at two 
o’clock; and so, you can just believe, I said 
I would. It seemed to me that nothing ever 
had happened so nice, and I could hardly 
wait, because I thought so much about what 
we would do that afternoon. 

But while I was eating lunch that day I 
thought of something that made everything 
else seem just the smallest part of the fun, and 
it made me forget all about eating or anything 
like that. Somehow, while I was thinking 
about that canoe, and how I wanted it, I re- 

[ 113 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


membered all at once that the ten dollars 
father had given me and the six I had at home 
in my bank made sixteen dollars and that 
that was just the price of the silver canoe. 
And almost before you could think, I was all 
full of a scheme to buy my canoe right away 
and not wait any longer at all. 

Of course, father had given me the money 
I had to pay for my meals, but I thought this 
way: that the next day was Saturday and 
pay day, and I would get five dollars then, 
which would be enough to pay my board till 
the rebus-prize was decided. And I could n’t 
help believing that we ’d surely win something 
in that contest, for I was sure that we had all 
the words right, and then I ’d have plenty of 
money. 

Well, I could n’t see any reason why I 
should n’t do that, so I just simply ran to the 
elevated train, in spite of my lame foot, and 
rushed home and got my money, and rushed 
back again, all before half-past one. And then 
I went straight up to the sporting-goods de- 
partment. 


[ 114 ] 


IN THE RIVER’S POWER 


“I came to buy my own canoe,” I said to 
Mr. Mallory when I found him, and then 
when he just stared, I put my money on the 
counter and laughed. 

‘‘Father said I could,” I said; and he knew 
that was true, so he did n’t wait at all, but he 
just went over to that canoe, lying there all 
new and shining; and he put paddles and 
cushions in it, and then called some men; 
and, almost before you could think, he had 
that silver canoe down in the wagon that was 
waiting to take us to the river. 

I guess I can’t tell how I felt. I never was 
so glad to have anything in the world, and 
when we started I thought nothing would 
ever make me feel bad again. 

But you don’t always know just what ’s 
going to happen when you start out to go any- 
where; and it seems to me, it was the strangest 
part of all this story that happened that day. 
I did n’t think so then, but it turned out that 
way. 

We got into the wagon and it was a dandy 
to carry a canoe in, and the horses seemed to 

[ 115 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


be anxious to go, and when we got out of the 
most crowded streets we just flew. We got 
out to Mr. Mallory’s house before very long, 
and I held the horses while he went in and got 
some things. I held on to the end of my 
canoe, behind the seat, you can just believe, 
while Mr. Mallory drove out the river-road. 

I think I never did have a better time. It 
was n’t a very bright day, and it seemed a 
little as if it were going to rain ; but Mr. Mal- 
lory said he was n’t afraid of rain if I was n’t. 
So I did n’t care. I had only some old clothes 
on. I had n’t put on my uniform coat at all 
that morning at the store. But the sun came 
out part of the time and it was really pretty 
hot. 

Well, we went first to the house of a farmer 
named White, who knew Mr. Mallory, and 
we asked about the man who had the decoy 
ducks. Decoys are painted wooden ducks 
made to look like real ones; so that hunters 
can float them on the water, and the real 
ducks will come and swim beside them, be- 
cause “birds of a feather flock together,” Mr. 

[ 116 ] 


IN THE RIVER’S POWER 


Mallory said. He meant because birds that 
are alike always like to be with each other. 
And Mr. White told us where he thought we 
could find the man who had the decoys; and 
he said the canoe was just the thing to go down 
the river and search for them, because Mr. 
Mallory said that was the only way we ’d ever 
get them. 

The river that we went on is called the 
Willow River, because there are a lot of 
willow-trees along the banks near that place 
where we put the canoe In. It looks fine, too, 
when the water is high, as it was just at that 
time, for there had been a good deal of rain, 
and all the streams and brooks were full of 
water. I wanted to paddle, but Mr. Mallory 
said he was afraid I ’d find it too hard, because 
the current was pretty swift, and I did n’t 
know how to balance the canoe very well yet; 
so I sat in the bow carefully and kept still, 
because you know how tippy a canoe is and 
how careful you have to be in it. 

“You can paddle later,” Mr. Mallory 
said, and he told me to watch how he did 

[ 117 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


it, so that I could learn more quickly after- 
wards. 

That interested me a lot, I can tell you. 
We started away off down the stream, Mr. 
Mallory keeping pretty far out in the middle 
at first, and afterwards drawing in nearer to 
shore, when we got near where we thought we 
might find the ducks. The canoe rode the 
water just dandy. It slid along perfectly 
quiet. I was waiting for him to find the place 
where the farmer had said we might come 
across the duck-man, which he had told us 
was an island in the river. I did n’t want 
to bother about paddling till we had tried to 
find the man, for he might hide or something, 
if he saw anybody coming. Mr. Mallory 
said he thought the man was n’t honest and 
that he never ought to have gotten the decoys 
without paying cash for them. 

I was mighty anxious to paddle the canoe, 
but I was curious about the island, too, and 
about the duck-man; for Mr. White, the 
farmer, had said he stayed there in a little hut 
part of the time, fishing, and shooting ducks, 
[ 118 ] 


IN THE RIVER’ S POWER 


and then went away and would be gone quite 
a while before he would come back. He 
thought he had a home and a family up in the 
city. He was quite a mysterious kind of man, 
for he would n’t talk to people very much and 
he was ugly; and sometimes people suspected 
that he took things away from the farms 
around his island, though he was two or three 
miles from the nearest house, I think. 

It was a long way, but it was fun, for we got 
way down among a lot of bayous, and we saw 
a musk-rat swimming, and two ducks that flew 
up out of the reeds, and sometimes when the 
stream was still, behind a corner of the bank, 
you could see Ashes down in the water. It 
sprinkled rain a little once and got pretty dark, 
and Mr. Mallory said he guessed we would 
get wet; but it did n’t rain before we got to a 
place we thought would be the island, which 
was as much as three miles, I think, from Mr. 
White’s. 

It was n’t a very big island, but when Mr. 
Mallory saw it, he thought he ’d better get out 
on it and look around, so he paddled up to it 
[ 119 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


and landed. There was n’t anything to tie 
the canoe to, for all the trees were too far back 
from the bank. But the bank was soft and 
muddy, so Mr. Mallory took the double 
paddle and jammed it down into the mud, 
and fastened our painter to it. Then he said 
I’d better stay in the canoe because of my 
sore foot and because somebody ought to 
watch the canoe; and so I stayed while he 
climbed up to the trees and went out of sight. 

Well, I don’t know just how it happened 
even yet, but after he was gone, I was just 
sitting looking down into the water or around, 
noticing that it looked like hard rain again, or 
watching how the current pulled around the 
canoe’s stern, when, all at once, I noticed 
that there was something queer about the 
canoe, and when I looked up, I saw that I was 
moving. I was startled, because it ’s pretty 
surprising to find out anything like that sud- 
denly, and when I looked to the bow, which 
I had supposed was fast to the bank, I saw 
that the painter had slipped or broken or some- 
thing and that I was already quite a little way 
[ 120 ] 


IN THE RIVER’S POWER 


from the island. In a second I knew that the 
double paddle Mr. Mallory had pushed into 
the mud was standing there on shore yet, and 
that I was adrift with only the little single 
paddle in a swift current, with only the wide 
bayous and swamps around, and a big storm 
coming sure. 


[ 121 ] 


CHAPTER IX 

THE HOUSE ON THE ISLAND 

JT ’S funny to remember the things you 
think of first, when anything that sort of 
scares you happens. I know what I thought 
about, when I first knew the canoe was loose 
and drifting. It was that everything, all over 
the river and the bayous and swamps and 
through the woods was so very, very quiet. 
It was as still as if there was n’t one single 
thing alive anywhere in the whole of it. Not 
a bird was singing, and it seemed as if the 
leaves all hung still, just sort of waiting for 
the rain. Then, the next thing, there was a 
little low rumble of thunder up in the sky 
above the trees; and I looked up and saw 
that the clouds were very thick and black, and 
that there was that queer kind of shreddy 
white just spreading out and scudding across 
under them, as if the wind up there were kind 
of tearing the fringe off the bottoms of the 
clouds and blowing it away. 

[ 122 ] 


HOUSE ON THE ISLAND 


But, of course, I did n’t sit still. I sat up 
straight as carefully as I could, and then I 
just grabbed the little paddle and tried to 
paddle and scull and everything. I did n’t 
want to hollo, if I could help it, because I 
did n’t know what Mr. Mallory might be 
doing, or where the duck-man might be, so 
I tried first, hard, to paddle the canoe. But 
I could n’t do anything, for the canoe turned 
and twisted around so in the current that the 
light paddle was hardly any good. I found 
out, quick, why Mr. Mallory had n’t let me 
paddle at first. Just below the island, too, I 
found that a good-sized creek emptied into 
the river; and when I ’d drifted just a little 
way, I came opposite it, and the water just 
seemed to grab right hold of the canoe and 
carry it ever so much faster than before. 

I fought around and splashed and tried 
everything I knew how, but all the time the 
trees were going by faster and faster; and 
when in just a minute — or what I thought 
was just about a minute — I looked back at 
the island again, I was scared, for I knew 

[ 123 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


I could n’t get back there. It was so far 
away that I could hardly believe it. 

Then I did hollo. I just kneeled in the 
canoe and yelled as loud as I could to Mr. 
Mallory, and my voice sounded very queer in 
the trees. And then I looked and listened, and 
looked, and no answer came, and he did n’t 
come out on the bank, or anything. I could n’t 
think it was going to be that the river would 
carry me away, miles and miles, and I had 
a kind of wild feeling, as if I could jump just 
overboard or do something else like that to 
stop it. But I did n’t. I should have been 
foolish to jump in, and try to swim, for I could 
swim only about twenty or thirty strokes then, 
and you never can tell, in a river like that, 
how many snags there may be, or whether 
the shores are solid or muddy or maybe quick- 
sand. It seemed as if I could n’t keep still 
in the canoe and be carried on; but what else 
could I do ? 

Well, all at once, I thought I could whistle, 
and that maybe if I would whistle loud on 
my fingers, the sharp noise would make Mr. 

[ 124 ] 


HOUSE ON THE ISLAND 


Mallory hear, though I was getting so far 
away now that I did n’t know if it would be 
any use. Even H Mr. Mallory did hear me, 
I did n’t know that we could do anything. 
But I put my first and third fingers in my 
mouth and blew as loud as I could — and I 
can whistle pretty loud. 

Even then, when I was scared, it just seemed 
queer to listen to the noise of the whistle 
among the trees. It just seemed to run 
around among the branches like some wild 
kind of a noise I had n’t made at all. Of 
course, a whistle does n’t make such a very 
great deal of noise, but it ’s a sharp, shrill kind 
that goes a long distance through the air, and 
so it made the echoes wake up. 

But it did n’t do any good. The island was 
so far away, and I suppose the trees stopped 
the sound so that Mr. Mallory could n’t hear. 
Besides, the thunder made more noise now, 
and I knew that it was n’t any use. And, 
just as I about gave up, the current of the 
river made a wide, swift sweep, and carried 
me around a bend, out of sight of the island. 

[ 125 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


I thought, then, that I ’d better try to get to 
shore, and so I picked up the paddle. First, 
I tried just to steer the boat ashore, but the 
current was too strong. Then I thought 
perhaps I could pole with the paddle by put- 
ting it down to the bottom and pushing. But 
the first time I tried that I put the paddle 
down almost to my hands and did n’t touch 
anything, and then the water nearly twisted 
the paddle out of my hands before I got it up. 
I tried to stop the boat against a tree that stood 
out in the water a little way from the shore. 
I put the paddle against it and drew the boat 
over close to it.. But when I reached out to 
take hold of the trunk, the canoe just seemed 
to jerk away and my hands dragged across the 
bark. I nearly tipped over and did break 
some of my finger nails pretty bad. That 
hurt, too. 

I did n’t know what was going to happen to 
me. I was going farther and farther down 
river, and no matter how I tried, I could n’t 
do anything. It was getting so dark now, too, 
with the clouds spreading over the sky, that 
[ 126 ] 


HOUSE ON THE ISLAND 


it was like evening, and the thunder was 
coming pretty fast. It looked very wild on 
the river, for the wind rushed across the water 
every little while, making it all ruffle up and 
sometimes spatter a little. There was a queer 
kind of light, sort of yellow, all over things; 
and when the lightning flashed, it made things 
turn white all around you close by, while 
things a little distance away seemed to turn 
black. 

I don’t think I get afraid very easy — I 
mean any easier than most of the other fellows 
do; but I did n’t feel very glad about every- 
thing just then. Mr. Mallory was left on the 
island without a boat, and I had a canoe that 
I could n’t bring to shore. Maybe we could n’t 
get home that night at all, and I could n’t help 
feeling that I’d like to, mighty well. I’d 
never been on this part of the river before, and 
I did n’t know what it would be like. There 
might be a falls or something. Or it might 
come on to rain so hard or to blow so that it 
would swamp me. 

Well, the drops of rain began to fall pretty 

[ 127 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


soon — first, big heavy ones that came down 
and hit the water hard and made it jump back 
with little splashes, as if the rain drops were 
stones. Then the rain came faster, and it 
spattered on my coat and hat and into the 
boat. It hit my legs and went right through 
my stockings, and it began to be wet inside the 
canoe, too. There was no way to keep the 
water out, for, of course, the canoe has n’t any 
deck and is all open, and there was n’t any- 
thing to cover it up with. I thought probably 
it would n’t get much hurt, though, because 
it was n’t getting scraped any yet. But pretty 
soon I did n’t think much about it, for the 
lightning began to be brighter and to come 
faster, and the thunder followed after it quick 
and hard, and the rain all at once began just 
to pour down. 

Have you ever heard men taking the old 
shingles off a house that ’s going to be re- 
shingled or have a new roof ? Well, that ’s 
the way the thunder would sound when it 
started. First, there would come a little flash 
of lightning and then another bigger one and 
[ 128 ] 


HOUSE ON THE ISLAND 


then, all at once, one that would just scare 
you; for it would look as if it were jumping 
all around amongst the trees, and you could 
sort of hear it snap as if it were breaking off 
twigs; and then it would stop and everything 
would turn dim, and away off somewhere the 
thunder would be coming up fast, with a 
noise like the shingles or like the long roll on 
a snare-drum, and then — bang! it would 
end with a noise like a cannon, up over your 
head, and down would come the rain as if 
somebody had tipped a barrel over right above 
your head. 

It was the worst I ever saw, and there I just 
had to sit in the canoe and take it. Pretty soon 
it got to going so hard that the lightning did n’t 
stop to wait for the thunder at all, but just 
flashed and flashed and flashed — sometimes 
as fast as you could wink your eyes — and it 
would make you think of the moving pictures 
in the kinodrome machine; for you could see 
everything all around you in little quick in- 
stants of light, when the rain would shine and 
seem to stand still in the air and wait for the 

[ 129 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


dark to come again. And then, when the 
flash stopped, it would seem like black night 
for a minute, till your eyes would get used 
to it. 

I was wet all through, mighty quick, and 
though it was n’t a very cold rain, it made me 
feel pretty cold. Besides, the water gathered 
in the bottom of the canoe very soon and 
slopped around, and my shoes just seemed 
full, so that when I moved my toes I could feel 
it. I could feel the wet running down my 
back and chest and arms. My face was all 
covered with drops, and the water ran out of 
my hair, for the rain went right through my 
hat and down into my eyes. I was about the 
wettest person in the world, I guess, and after 
I began to get used to the lightning, it was kind 
of exciting and seemed almost funny enough 
to laugh at. 

But after the storm had seemed to be as bad 
as it could be, all at once it grew ever so much 
worse, and the lightning got simply awful and 
seemed to come right down into the water in 
zigzag streaks, and the thunder was like all 

[ 130 ] 


HOUSE ON THE ISLAND 


the cannons in the world shooting at once. 
Everything seemed to be tearing loose all 
around, for boughs broke off the trees in the 
wind, and the trunks bent away over, and 
branches just lashed the river. The water 
flew so hard that it struck against my face 
like hail, and I could n’t see. And when I 
covered my eyes with my hands, it hurt my 
hands, too. The water in the canoe rose up 
so much that I had to bail with a pail we’d 
had drinking-water in, and I came so near 
tipping over that I was scared, too, several 
times while I was working. And I thought 
every minute that the canoe would swamp 
or fill up and sink. 

And then all at once, the bow struck with a 
bump into something, and I heard bushes 
scraping all around the sides, and some of 
the twigs slapped me, and the canoe stopped; 
and when I turned around to look, the light- 
ning showed me some land and the nose of the 
canoe driven into the mud bank so hard that 
it had stuck. 

Of course, I did n’t wait a second then, but 

[ 131 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


jumped up and climbed out, taking my paddle 
with me, and found the sod above the very 
edge of the water quite solid, in spite of being 
so wet. And I climbed up higher without 
waiting even to try to fasten the canoe. And 
almost the first thing I saw, as I looked up, was 
a little, square house, made out of logs and 
brush, right straight in front of me, and I 
just ran for it, as well as I could, for it was 
slippery and rough on the ground. In a 
minute I was at the door of the hut, and when 
I pulled, it came right open, and I almost 
tumbled inside. 

It was a little, square, one-room fJlace, that 
would have been almost dark at the time, if 
there had n’t been a bright fire burning in a 
rough little stone fireplace over one side. The 
floor was of rough boards with rather big 
cracks between, and the walls were just the 
bare logs except where some pictures from 
newspapers had been pasted up. There 
was one window, but it was now so dark out- 
side that hardly any light came in from it. 
A gun stood in the fire-light right near the 

[ 132 ] 



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HOUSE ON THE ISLAND 


hearth, and an axe was beside it. Over in a 
corner was a pile of something that looked 
like old clothes, just a dark, shadowy sort of 
bunch, that seemed as if it might be some- 
body’s bed. 

Well, I stood still for a minute, with the 
water just streaming off from me and run- 
ning down on the floor; then I stepped for- 
ward, and flrst thing I knew, the bundle in the 
corner was moving, and I saw a man start up 
and sit staring at me, as if he had just waked 
up from being asleep and as if I had scared 
him. 

“Well, who are you.?” he asked, his voice 
all sort of hoarse, after he had stared a minute. 

He began to get up slowly and I was a little 
afraid of what he was going to do, so I backed 
away a little. 

“ Where ’d you come from he said, stand- 
ing and looking at me. 

“From the city.” 

“You’re about drowned, I guess, ain’t 
you ? ” He looked at the window and listened, 
and then grinned. 


[ 133 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Yes/’ I said, and I laughed a little, too, 
though I was shivering some. 

He looked me all over again and then I 
could see that he looked specially at my paddle. 

“Anybody with you?” he asked. 

“A man was with me, but he is on another 
island up stream. I was waiting for him in 
the canoe when it floated away.” 

“What did you come out in the rain for?” 

“It was n’t raining when we started.” 

“Well, you better get out of them clothes 
and wring them out,” he said, “and dry ’em 
before the Are here. You’re welcome.” 

“Thank you,” I answered; and I knew I 
ought to, too, because I knew that you ’re 
likely to get sick if you sit around in wet 
things. 

“Let ’s see your paddle,” the man said, and 
reached out his hand. 

I did n’t want to let him have it, but I 
could n’t do anything else very well, because 
I did n’t want to have a quarrel with him, and 
he did n’t seem to be ugly now. So I handed 
him the paddle. 


[ 134 ] 


HOUSE ON THE ISLAND 


I began to undress right away, but I did n’t 
forget Mr. Mallory. 

“Is there any way we could do anything 
for Mr. Mallory.^” I asked. 

“Where is he.^” he answered. 

“ On an island quite a way up the river. I 
don’t know whether there ’s any house on it 
or not. Perhaps there is, but if not, it ’ll be 
pretty near as bad for him as it was for me on 
the river.” 

“There’s a house on it,” the man said. 

“Oh!” I said. “Does the man live there 
then.?” 

“What man.?” 

“ Why, Mr. Mallory is looking for a man 
who bought some decoy ducks at Maitland’s 
and did n’t pay for them.” 


[ 135 ] 


CHAPTER X 

THE MAN WHO DISAPPEARED 

J STOPPED right short there, for it sud- 
denly came into my thoughts that maybe 
this was the duck-man. He turned and looked 
at me and grinned. 

“All right,” he said. “Go on.” 

“Are you the duck-man I asked. 

“ I guess I am,” he answered, like that. 
“Then this is your house, here.?” I asked. 
“Yes,” he said. “I used to live up above. 
I moved.” 

“Then your old house is on the other 
island.?” 

“Yes. Your friend ’ll find it. He ’s in it 
now, probably, wondering what ’s become of 
you.” 

That made me think that probably Mr. 
Mallory would be awfully anxious about me. 
But there was n’t anything I could do, unless 
the duck-man would help me. 

[ 136 ] 


MAN WHO DISAPPEARED 


“Have you got a boat?” I asked. 

“ Sure ! How ’d you s’pose I get over here — 
swim ? ” 

“No,” I answered, laughing. “But could n’t 
we row back and get Mr. Mallory ?” 

“In this ruction?” he asked, looking out 
the window again, where the storm seemed 
to be as bad as ever. “Not me.” 

“I tried to paddle, but I ’d lost the double 
paddle,” I said. “If the storm goes down 
pretty soon, will you help me row back ?” 

“I’ll see,” he answered. 

There was n’t anything more I could say, 
and, as I was all undressed now, the man told 
me to come to the fire and get warm. He 
seemed pretty kind, I thought, and, as the 
room was quite warm, I began to feel better. 
But he did other things for me. He took my 
clothes and wrung the water out of them, over 
in a corner where the floor had a hole broken 
in it. And then he hung them on a chair near 
the fire and put on some more wood from his 
pile near-by, and then he put a kettle on with 
some water to boil and said he would make 

[ 137 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


us some hot tea. After that he made me 
stand up and swing my arms hard, and then 
he rubbed me with his hands till I was all 
warm as could be and felt just fine. 

It seemed as if he were a pretty good friend 
to me, and I began to feel that he could n’t 
be a very dishonest man if he would do all 
those things for a boy that had got wet. But 
I was n’t just sure, either. 

“So your Mr. Mallory is looking for me, is 
he.^” he asked, after he had put a blanket 
all around me, so that I should n’t get chilly 
again. 

“Yes,” I answered. “He wants you to 
pay for the decoys.” 

“Well,” he said, “that’s all right, I s’pose. 
I intended to pay for ’em — if I had to.” 

He looked at me and laughed, as if it were 
a joke. “How much discount will Mallory 
give me for cash ? ” he added. 

Well, I did n’t know anything about that, 
and I said so, and then he just laughed. And 
then he took his gun out of the corner. It was 
a rifle and he began to take the cartridges out 

[ 138 ] 


MAN WHO DISAPPEARED 


of it and to take the rifle to pieces, just as if 
I were n’t there at all. And he got some rags 
and cleaned it all up, and wiped out the barrel 
with a cleaning-rod he had, and fixed it all up 
right. Then he put the cartridges back into 
the chamber and set the rifle up again by the 
fireplace. Somehow, it made me feel as if he 
were a sort of strange and maybe a dangerous 
person. 

By the time this was all done, though, and 
we had had our tea, which was good, the rain 
was getting less outside. It was n’t nearly so 
bad when I went to the window to look out, 
and it was getting light again. The man said 
it was n’t very late and that perhaps the sun 
would come out again after a while, and it 
hardly seemed possible to me that such a very 
little while had passed. It seemed like days 
since morning, when I had been at the store, 
and Gracia and Tom and I had been talking 
about the rebus-prize. 

But it was a long time clearing up, and it was 
almost dark when the wind finally did go down. 
Then I just urged and urged the man to row 

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THE SILVER CANOE 


me back up the river, till at last I told him I 
would get Mr. Mallory to pay him for me if 
he would. And then, finally, he promised he 
would. So I got dressed again, and we went 
out among the wet trees, and he found his oars, 
and we got his boat, which was bottom side 
up on shore in the bushes, and we put it into 
the water. I could n’t help much because 
my foot seemed to be sorer than ever, and I 
guess I must have hurt it some while I was so 
excited in the canoe. Then we bailed the 
canoe out, for it was still fast among the reeds 
and was half full of water, though not hurt a 
bit, and afterwards the man tied the canoe 
behind his boat. 

When I got into the canoe, though, I was 
very much surprised, for the duck-man acted 
so queer. First, he kept looking and looking 
at the canoe. He said it was a very nice one. 
Then after he had started to row, I thought he 
did such strange things. He rowed across the 
river, instead of up toward the island, and he 
made an awful fuss about the strong current. 
He rowed clear across and then a little way up 

[ 140 ] 


MAN WHO DISAPPEARED 


shore, and then he stopped, as if he were tired. 
Then he rowed a little more, and I could n’t 
help thinking he did n’t seem to try very hard. 
And after he’d done this two or three times, 
all at once he just seemed to give up. 

‘‘I can’t do this alone,” he called out to 
me. 

“Can I help.^^” I answered. 

“No,” he said. “I’ll need a man.” 

He rowed again a little, and then stopping 
once more, he turned his boat toward shore. 

“You ’ll have to run and get help,” he said. 
“There’s a man named Vernon, who lives 
over across a couple of fields here. You 
better get out and run across to him. He 
knows me and will come and help us.” 

I did n’t like to go a bit, but I could n’t say 
I would n’t, and I just had to get back to Mr. 
Mallory as soon as I could, so I got out of the 
canoe on shore. My foot hurt quite a little, 
too, but I did n’t want to complain about that. 
Of course, I knew the duck-man was doing a 
good deal, if he was really trying to help me 
get back to the upper island, and while I 

[ 141 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


thought he was sort of lazy, I did n’t really 
believe he did n’t mean all right. So I started 
across the fields, and they were just terribly 
muddy and the mud stuck on my shoes till it 
seemed as if I could never lift my feet. 

I don’t know how far I walked, but I kept 
on and on and I did n’t see any house at all. 
And all that time it was getting darker, too, 
and I commenced to worry pretty bad. But 
at last I found a road and got out on that, and 
then I walked and walked again quite a while, 
toward a little hill with trees on it, because I 
thought that was where a house might be. 
But when I got there I found there was n’t any 
house at all or any within sight. 

But just as I turned away, wondering how 
I could ever walk back to where the duck-man 
and the boats were, all at once, Mr. Mallory 
himself came running out of the trees. And 
such a looking man he was! 

He ’s a pretty fine man and a good-looking 
one usually, but when he first came out of the 
bushes there he looked terrible. He was pale 
and his face had got an awful scratch right 

[ 142 ] 


MAN WHO DISAPPEARED 


across one cheek, and the scratch had bled so 
it stained his face and neck and way down on 
his collar. He had lost his hat, and his hair 
was all w^et and ruffled up, and his clothes 
were so wet that they just stuck tight to him 
all over, and he had a big tear across one knee. 
But when he saw me he just yelled and came 
jumping down the little hill and grabbed hold 
of me. It made me feel avdully sorry for him, 
for it was because he was so worried about me 
that he was almost crazy. 

Well, he told me that he had found the little 
house on the island, but that after he saw there 
was nobody there, he came back soon to the 
place where the canoe had been. When he 
saw that the canoe was gone, he did n’t know 
what to do, but he was afraid I would get 
drowned. He thought perhaps there might 
be a hidden boat or canoe on the island; so, 
all through the storm, he was tearing his way 
around in the bushes looking for it or for any- 
thing he might find that would help him. 

And then he had swum across the river 
after the storm, looking for help, and he had 

[ 143 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


been searching for a house just the way I had, 
till he happened to see me. 

And I guess he had an awful time, for he 
was all used up afterwards and could n’t work 
next day at all. He was so tired and sore 
then, that I thought maybe we would n’t be 
able to get home. 

Well, I told him all that had happened to 
me, and that the man who rowed me over to 
the main shore was the duck-man, and that 
he was waiting for me to come back to the 
boats. 

Mr. Mallory seemed more suspicious than 
I was, when I told him what had happened, 
but he said he simply could n’t drag himself 
across those fields again for anything, and 
that if I would go on with him and find a 
house, he ’d send a man with me to get the 
canoe. So we searched again for a house, 
and at last we found one, and the farmer took 
us in and just did everything for us. 

But I could hardly wait to get my canoe 
again, so one of the big boys, who was the 
farmer’s son, started out with me and we went 

[ 144 ] 


MAN WHO DISAPPEARED 


back toward the river. But what do you 
think ? — I could n’t remember where it was 
that I had come across the fields, for it was 
getting dark then, and when we finally got 
to the river there were no boats or any duck- 
man anywhere in sight. And when we hol- 
loed, nothing answered, only the echoes over 
the dark river. 

Well, Mr. Mallory was too tired to talk 
much when we got back, and my foot was 
hurting so that I had all I could do not to make 
a fuss about it. So it seemed as if we never 
would get back from that farmer’s house to 
Mr. White’s. But the farmer hitched up his 
team and drove us over to Mr. White’s, and 
Mr. Mallory gave the man some money. 

All the family at Mr. White’s were very much 
surprised to hear all that had happened to us, 
but Mr. White said he and his man would 
look for the duck-man and the canoe. And 
they gave us a dandy supper, and then Mr. 
Mallory drove us home in the evening, because 
he felt better for a while, and because it turned 
out quiet and bright moonlight after the storm. 

[ 145 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


And it seemed to me as if I must have dreamed 
all about that adventure we ’d had, and about 
even having my canoe at all, for it did n’t 
seem as if it could have been real. 

My foot was so bad that I just had to go to 
bed when I got home to Mrs. Fairbanks’s; 
and in the morning it felt so bad that I had 
to have the doctor come, and he said I could n’t 
go down to the store till Monday. So on that 
Saturday when the rebus-contest closed, I 
was n’t at the store at all. 

But that was n’t the worst of it, for though 
Mrs. Fairbanks gave me my meals over that 
Saturday and Sunday, something else hap- 
pened that scared me pretty bad. Andy 
Fenner brought my pay envelope out to me 
for I had n’t any more than a quarter left, and 
so had to telephone to him and ask him to 
bring it. And when I opened it, instead of 
five dollars there was only just one dollar; 
for I had n’t been at the store any day that 
week till Friday, and I suppose I did n’t 
really have that much coming to me, for I 
had n’t worked. 


[ 146 ] 


MAN WHO DISAPPEARED 


At first I did n’t know what I should do, 
but then I just thought that maybe the rebus- 
contest would all be decided Monday, and 
that I could get some money right away. I 
spent all day Saturday and Sunday worrying, 
though. 

Well, Monday morning, the first thing I 
did after I got to the store was to go down and 
see Gracia and ask about our answer to the 
rebus-puzzle, and she told me she had fixed 
it as nice as she could and had mailed it on 
Saturday morning with the name of Mr. Ben 
Peck, Tom Moultrie’s uncle, signed to it. So 
we had our answer in, and there was nothing 
left to do but wait for the decision. 

Then I went up to the office and saw Tom, 
and told Mr. Paine I thought I could work 
again all right now. My foot did n’t feel all 
right, but it was a good deal better. It was 
sore every day a little for quite a while, and 
bothered me some, but I hardly thought about 
it after that, for so many things came to me 
that I hardly had time. 

Well, I put on my uniform coat, and then 

[ 147 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


something else happened. Just as soon as I 
put it on, I heard something like paper crack- 
ling in the inside pocket, which is the only 
pocket we have in our coats, and I reached in 
and pulled it out, and it was an envelope. 

It was very dirty, as if somebody had carried 
it in his pocket a long time, and I knew it 
did n’t belong to me. There was no address 
on it and it was n’t sealed, so I opened it quick. 
I found a paper, a little worn at the places 
where it was folded, as if it had been handled 
a good deal, too. But when I opened it. I 
nearly stopped breathing, for I knew in a 
minute what it was. It was the printed an- 
swer to the rebus-puzzle! 

In a second I was sure I understood. I 
looked at the envelope again, and then I knew 
that the dirt was partly street-dirt and I was 
sure, right away, that it was the envelope Mr. 
Paine had given me for Redfern’s on the day 
I had my fight with Tom Moultrie and when 
I was hurt by the automobile. 


[ 148 ] 


CHAPTER XI 

OTHER PEOPLE’S SECRETS 

J CAN hardly tell how many thoughts 
came into my mind at once, when I saw 
that envelope. The first was that Tom had 
failed to do what I had told him to and what 
he had promised to do, about delivering the 
note to Mr. Paine or to Mr. Redfern. Next 
I thought that it would make a lot of trouble 
for me, and I wondered quick why I had n’t 
heard anything about it yet. Then I looked 
at the puzzle answers and I could see in a 
minute that we had had every one of them right 
and then I was sure that Tom had purposely 
played a mean trick on me by putting that 
envelope into my uniform coat when he had 
carried them both upstairs, at the time that I 
was sent home after the accident. 

That thought made me just mad all over, 
and I forgot all about everything else, and I 
just turned around on Tom, for we were alone 
in the oflBce then. 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“What did you do that for?” I almost hol- 
loed at him, the minute I could get my 
breath. 

He looked pretty startled for a second and 
then he pretended not to understand. 

“Do what?” he asked. 

“You know,” I said. “What did you put 
that envelope back in my pocket for ? I told 
you to take it to Mr. Paine and ask him if you 
should take it to Redfern’s.” 

“ Oh, that ? Well, yes, I know. But say, 
when I got back up here that day, Paine had 
heard you ’d been fighting and had got hurt, 
and he was awful mad. So I did n’t dare tell 
him I had the envelope, and he thought it was 
lost or that you took it on home with you, so 
he gave me another one to take to Redfern’s. 
I put this back in your pocket, because I 
thought maybe you ’d like to have it.” 

I could hardly believe what he said, be- 
cause if Mr. Paine had been so angry, you ’d 
think he would have said something to me, 
right away. But he had only asked me if 
my foot was better, and had n’t said a word. 

[ 150 ] 


OTHER PEOPLE’S SECRETS 


I looked at Tom a minute, while I tried to 
think how it could be, and all the time I was 
holding the dirty envelope and the sheet of 
rebus answers in my hand. Suddenly Tom 
reached out and took them. 

“ If you ’d looked to see what ’s on this sheet, 
you ’d be glad to have it,” he said, opening it 
out. 

“ What I said, for, of course, he would n’t 
know if he had n’t looked when he had no 
right to. 

“The answers to the rebus-puzzle,” he said. 

“How did you know.^^” I asked. 

I know he had n’t thought about my asking 
him that question, for he just stopped short 
and caught his lip in between his teeth, and 
then he began to turn red and red, while he 
looked at me. Then, all at once, he just 
sort of snarled. 

“Aw,” he said, “I did n’t know till to-day.” 

“I know that is n’t true,” I said, and my 
thoughts began to go faster than I could talk. 

“You ’ve seen it before. You saw it before 
we mailed our answer to the rebus. You saw 

[ 151 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


it before you told me those words that I had n’t 
guessed. You — you ’ve cheated!” 

I could hardly talk, I got so excited at the 
end, for it meant so much. It meant that if 
Tom had cheated, then Gracia and I had, 
too, for we had used the words he told me, 
when I supposed he had guessed them. It 
meant that our chance was all spoiled, for 
of course, we could n’t let our answer stay in 
the contest. If it should win any prize, as 
we had been almost sure it would, it would n’t 
be fair. It meant that I had n’t earned my 
extra money to pay for my canoe that was 
lost, and it meant that I had n’t any chance 
to earn even enough to pay my board till 
father came home. 

But Tom seemed to get very angry. “ Say,” 
he said, “ you hold on. What are you talking 
about 

“About your cheating,” I said, just as mad 
as he was. 

“Is that so.^” he answered. “Well, I 
did n’t cheat, see.^” 

“You did.” 


[ 152 ] 


OTHER PEOPLE’S SECRETS 


“I did not. I never saw that answer till 
after we ’d guessed ours. Do you think I ’d 
look at it? Of course not.” 

“When did you put it in my pocket?” I 
asked. 

“Friday — or no, Saturday,” he answered. 

“I don’t believe you,” I said. 

“Well then, don’t. I don’t care,” he 
sneered at me. 

“Well, I care,” I said. “You ’ve made us 
cheat.” 

“I have n’t. But what are you going to do 
about it?” 

“I ’ll go and tell Mr. Paine.” 

“I would!” 

“I will.” 

“Go ahead and tell him. You won’t hurt 
me any.” 

“ Won’t I ? You ’ll lose your job.” 

“ Oh no, I won’t. You ’ll lose yours — you 
and your little friend downstairs.” 

“How?” 

“What’ll you tell Paine?” 

“Just the truth.” 


[ 153 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“That you wrote out this puzzle-answer 
and sent it in?” 

“Yes, after you pretended to help guess it, 
when you had cheated by getting hold of the 
printed answer.” I was getting more sure 
all the time. 

“Is that so?” Tom said. “Well, now, 
listen to me. If you tell him that, I ’ll say I 
don’t know anything about it, see? Then 
let ’s see you prove it!” 

Well, that made me stop to think. What 
would happen if I went and told and Tom 
should answer that way? Why, Mr. Paine 
would n’t know which of us to believe. 

Tom began to laugh, as I hesitated. “Say,” 
he said, “go ahead and tell. Then who ’ll 
get the prize if our answer wins ?” 

“Nobody,” I said, “ for they won’t let itwin.” 

“ Well, I guess they will let it win, if it ’s the 
only one right. If they don’t, my uncle will 
sue ’em.” 

“Your uncle!” 

“Yes, you better believe he will. He’ll 
get that piano if he can.” 

[ 154 ] 


OTHER PEOPLE’S SECRETS 


“But he can’t.” 

“Can’t he F Who ’ll stop him ? What have 
you got to do with it now? Anyway, you 
can’t prove a thing. If you say that my 
uncle’s name was signed to your answer, I ’ll 
say I told you he and I sent in an answer to- 
gether, and that you got jealous and just tried 
to spoil the fun for us. Then what ’ll you do 

Well, that just seemed to almost take the 
breath out of me. It was so sudden, and so 
easy for him and so hard for me to get around. 
And while I stood there just looking at him, 
Tom held the dirty envelope and rebus-sheet 
before me and just tore them across and across 
and all up into little bits, and I just stared at 
him; and then he snapped his fingers at me 
and went to the window and threw the bits 
out into the wind. 

I felt like running and jumping on him 
again, the way I had the day he first took the 
envelope away from me. But as I stood still 
looking at him, I just thought that would n’t 
do any good. But I was as sure that he had 
lied to me as I could be. 

[ 155 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


Of course, I was scared, but I was so angry 
just then that I did n’t think much about that. 
And I could hardly keep from fighting when 
Tom turned around again and said something 
more. 

“Now run and tell,” he said. “Maybe 
Paine ’ll fire me, too, and make a clean sweep, 
but he ’ll fire you and your little girl-friend, 
sure, and you won’t have any rebus-prize to 
comfort you.” 

I looked at him a long minute, and then I 
just turned away from him, for I did n’t know 
what to do. 

Well, I did n’t wait for anything else then, 
but just went down to the basement to see 
Gracia. Of course, I had to tell her first, and 
then I ’d have to come back and tell Mr. Paine. 
It made me feel sick, too, to think first what 
Gracia would say and how she would feel, and 
then what Mr. Paine would do. But I had to 
tell him, I thought. 

When I got down to the stairs where I 
always went to talk to her, she was n’t at her 
desk behind the tubes, and I was very much 

[ 156 ] 


OTHER PEOPLE’S SECRETS 


surprised. She was almost never away. So 
I asked one of the other girls where she was. 

“Oh, she is n’t here, to-day,” she answered. 
“Her mother ’s sick.” 

That seemed so sudden and so different 
from what I had been expecting, that I 
could n’t think of anything else to say. I 
did n’t even think to ask whether Gracia had 
been there Saturday, or whether her mother 
was very sick, or if she might be there in the 
oflSce again the next day. I just stared and 
then turned around and walked back up the 
steps, trying to think what to do next, and 
feeling how much I had really wanted to see 
Gracia. 

And then, all of a sudden, I remembered 
that Gracia had told me one time that there 
was n’t anybody in her family but her mother 
and herself, because her father had died a 
long time before that. And she had told me 
that she and her mother both worked, and I 
began to wonder if maybe she was n’t in pretty 
bad trouble, if her mother was very sick. And 
then I stopped still on the stairs, as I re- 

1157] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


membered what Tom had said about Gracia 
and me both losing our places in the store if 
I told Mr. Paine. I thought probably it 
would be so, because Mr. Paine would n’t 
know whom to believe, and he would make 
both Tom and me go and then, of course, 
they would n’t let any girl work in the cashier’s 
room who was n’t believed to be perfectly 
honest. And I felt worse than ever, as I 
thought of what I had done and how I ’d got 
Gracia into trouble, too. Maybe she and her 
mother would n’t have any money to buy 
food, like me, if she lost her place. 

I tried once to think that it was n’t my 
fault; but I knew it was, because I had been 
willing, in the first place, to try for the rebus- 
prize, when I knew it might not be allowed 
if Mr. Paine knew it. Then I had let Tom 
make me think it was all right to put his 
uncle’s name on our answer, and had talked 
Gracia out of thinking it was n’t. And now, 
just because I had done those things, I 
could n’t come right out and tell Mr. Paine 
that Tom had n’t been square, without being 

[ 158 ] 


OTHER PEOPLE’S SECRETS 


ashamed or being afraid for myself. Mr. 
Paine would say I was as bad as Tom, and 
I began to think I was. 

I tried to think what would happen, if I 
did n’t tell about Gracia’s part in it at all, and 
I knew Tom would be mean enough, if I told 
on him, to bring Gracia’s name in somehow; 
and even if he did n’t, she would probably 
tell, herself, when Tom and I got discharged. 
So, it would n’t do any good not to tell that 
Gracia was in it with me. 

Well, I had to go back upstairs, of course, 
and I could hardly walk because it seemed as 
if everything I ever cared about was spoiled. 
I knew why I had n’t done just what I ought 
to have done, too, and I was more ashamed 
of that than of all the rest. It was just because 
I had wanted that silver canoe so bad, and 
now I ’d had the canoe and lost it, probably. 
And every new thing that came into my mind 
seemed to make it harder for me to drag my 
feet back up into Mr. Paine’s office. 

When I got into the office again, though, 
there was another surprise waiting for me. 

[ 159 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


Mr. Paine was in his room, but with him two 
other men of the store and two or three girls 
from the general office had come in, and they 
were just opening a big bag on Mr. Paine’s 
table and taking out envelopes and envelopes 
by the hundreds. In one instant I knew, of 
course, that the letters must be the answers 
to the rebus-puzzle, and I wondered where 
they had been till then. I found out after- 
wards that Mr. Paine had had them held in 
the mail-room till this Monday morning. I 
saw Tom, inside, right away, too, and just as 
quick as I closed the outside door Mr. Paine 
looked out and spoke to me. 

“Here, young man,” he said. “We want 
you, too. Come in here and open these en- 
velopes as fast as you know how.” 

I went in and they gave me a letter-opening 
knife, and put me in a chair next to Tom and 
then I did as he was doing, cutting open the 
letters by pushing the long, thin knife-blade 
under the flap of the envelope and ripping 
it open. You can do it pretty fast after you 
learn how. 


[ 160 ] 


OTHER PEOPLE^S SECRETS 

But I could n’t look anybody in the face. 
It seemed as if the time in all my life when 
I was in the most trouble was right then, and 
I could n’t see how I was ever to get out 
of it. Somewhere in that big pile of rebus- 
answers on the table, or in another bag on the 
floor, was the answer we had made, — Gracia 
and Tom and I, — and it would be opened and 
looked at and read, pretty soon now, and then 
if I did right, I would have to tell before every- 
body that it was not a fair answer; and then 
all the rest of the things I dreaded so would 
come. And yet, if I did tell, I ’d lose every- 
thing I had hoped for; and I did n’t know 
how I ’d get anything to eat after my dollar 
was gone. 


[ 161 ] 


CHAPTER XII 


ON THE EDGE OF SUCCESS 

rj^OM would hardly speak to me at first. 

He looked kind of queer when I sat 
down beside him, but did n’t talk for quite 
a while. At last, though, when everybody else 
was busy and not paying any attention to us, 
he leaned over and whispered to me. 

“Did you tell.^” he asked, and when I 
looked in his eyes, I could see that he was a 
little bit anxious, after all. 

“Not yet,” I answered. 

“ Well, don’ t,” he said. “ I did n’t mean 
all I said. You ’ll get your share, all right.” 

I did n’t answer that right away, because 
I was wondering what made him afraid 
enough to talk that way to me. But pretty 
soon he began whispering again. 

“It ’s in this room somewhere,” he said. 

“ What is ” I asked. 

“Our answer.” 


[ 162 ] 


THE EDGE OF SUCCESS 


That was just what I ’d been thinking a 
minute before; but when Tom said it, I sud- 
denly thought that any envelope I picked up 
to open might be the one with our answer in 
it. And in that very second I thought of what 
I might do to get out of all our trouble, if only 
I could get hold of it in any way. I could 
perhaps keep it. There were so many en- 
velopes that one would n’t be missed, and I 
could get it easily — if only I could find out 
which it was. And then I thought, suppose 
I should just keep still and let it go. I knew 
now our answers were all right and it was 
almost certain we ’d win, and I surely had n’t 
any proof that Tom had really cheated. 

My heart sort of jumped when I first thought 
of it. Gracia had typewritten our answer, 
and so the envelope was typewritten, too, of 
course; and there were dozens of typewritten 
envelopes, and they were of all sizes and 
shapes, some such big ones that I could n’t 
understand it, and you could n’t possibly tell 
one from another by its outside. And besides, 
I could n’t stop to look at each one and guess, 

[ 163 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


about it. I had to hustle and open as many 
as I could, and as fast. It would n’t be my 
fault if we missed it. It was n’t my fault, 
anyway — I had n’t cheated. 

We boys opened the envelopes and then we 
passed them over to the girls on the other side 
of the table from us, and they took out the 
answers to the rebus and spread them open 
and then passed them on to the men at the end 
of the table, who looked them over. Tom and 
I had to work as fast as we could to keep the 
other people busy, and it was the busiest place 
you ever saw. But while I sat there and 
thought and worried, I began to see that maybe 
my idea of getting hold of our answer would n’t 
be so hopeless after all. Perhaps I could get a 
look at the opened answers later. It might 
be we ’d have to help handle those, too. Of 
course, it would be only the right ones or the 
ones that were pretty near right that would be 
chosen out of all the whole lot, and maybe I 
could get a chance to see them. Then if ours 
was in the lot, it would n’t be hard at all to 
get it. 


[ 164 ] 


THE EDGE OF SUCCESS 


So I got all excited again. I stopped watch- 
ing the envelopes, but looked at the girls to see 
if I could notice whether they were finding 
any perfectly right answers. I did n’t know 
whether they knew just what the right answers 
were, and they were not examining all the 
sheets very carefully, because that was the 
part the men had to do. 

It was after I had listened quite a while, 
and waited and waited, keeping from talking 
to Tom by just not answering the questions 
which he asked, that one of the men called 
out quickly. 

“Here ’s a correct one!” he cried. 

Everybody was interested, right away, for 
it had been plain that most of the answers 
were not right nor very near right, and this 
was the first that any one had spoken about 
that way. 

“Lucky person!” said one of the other men. 
“He won’t have many competitors by the 
looks of these early ones.” 

“ What ’s his name asked one of the girls. 

“His name is — ” the man who held the 

[ 165 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


paper hesitated. He was reading over the 
answer again carefully. 

“Oh no,” he said, suddenly, “it is n’t quite 
right, for he ’s left off the last two words.” 

The people at the table all laughed a little, 
but they seemed to think that getting within 
two words was pretty close. It made me more 
excited than ever, for it made me realize how 
fine it would be to be the really fair winner of 
the prize. And, after a minute it made me 
hope very much that I had n’t been fair about 
Tom. Maybe what he ’d said was true, after 
all, and I began to sort of believe it was. I 
could see how it might be. And oh, how I 
wanted it to be! But pretty soon they began 
to find other very close answers, quite a num- 
ber came within two words, some only three 
away from right; and then, all at once one 
was found that had only one word wrong. 
When I heard that one talked about I just 
held my breath, for I thought maybe it would 
turn out to be ours. But when they said what 
the wrong word was, what do you think .? It 
was that word official again. The person who 
[ 166 ] 


THE EDGE OF SUCCESS 


wrote the answer called that one sufficient. I 
don’t know how he made it, but that was the 
word he had written. 

And that was the way it went. I think I 
could n’t have been more excited over any- 
thing, and I could see that Tom was, too, and 
so were some of the other people, though I 
don’t believe they had half as good reasons as 
I had. But when instead of working minutes 
at the answers, we had worked for two or three 
hours, and when lunch time came and we just 
hurried out to eat lunch and came right back, 
I guess everybody got some tired. I did, I 
know, and I guess maybe Mr. Paine thought 
so, for he sent me out on errands in the after- 
noon. So the whole day went by, and I 
did n’t tell Mr. Paine or anybody. When 
night came and it was closing-time, there were 
so many answers left to open that I knew we 
would have the same work next day, and that, 
whatever I might be able to do, it would n’t 
have to be done till next day. So I just made 
up my mind to wait and not do anything, and 
I went home to Mrs. Fairbanks’s. 

[ 167 ] 


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It was n’t till I got home that night that I 
thought much about the duck-man and my 
canoe. I wondered when I should hear 
whether they had found him or not, and I 
tell you I could hardly stand it to think that 
maybe I ’d never see that silver canoe again. 
It seems to me I thought over it just about all 
night, too. I thought perhaps Mr. Mallory 
might have heard from it already, and I 
wondered and wondered. At last I gave up, 
just thinking that, anyway, if he had heard or 
even if he had got the canoe back, I would 
wait now till after the rebus-prize was decided. 
And the canoe would be safe with him. 

And then I remembered about Gracia’s 
mother being sick, and I felt mean that I 
had n’t thought about that, either, when 
Gracia was such a good friend to me and had 
come to see me when I was hurt. And I 
wondered if maybe I was n’t quite the same 
as I used to be, because I had worried so 
much and felt so bad. I would n’t have been 
mean to Gracia before. 

Well, I need n’t tell all about everything 
[ 168 ] 


THE EDGE OF SUCCESS 


that happened all next day, for it was a good 
deal like the things I’ve been telling about. 
We worked on the puzzle-answers all day, and 
I was just about as worried and thought pretty 
near the same things I did the day before. 
But in the afternoon, they got to the end of the 
answers, and began to look them over very 
fast, and when it was pretty near time for the 
store to close, I could see that they were getting 
those that were nearest right together. There 
did n’t seem to be any right ones, or at least, 
I could n’t hear about any. The men did n’t 
talk so I could make out what they had found. 
But I knew by the small piles of answers that 
they were paying most attention to at the end 
that they must be getting pretty close to de- 
ciding who would win. 

I did n’t know what to do. I could n’t get 
any chance to go anywhere near where the 
men were working, even after all the work I 
had to do was done. I was afraid to go and 
look without any excuse, and I did n’t dare 
ask any questions that would make them pay 
attention to me. At last, I thought maybe I 

[ 169 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


could wait till morning again, and so was 
intending to, when I happened to think that 
I had never asked about Gracia that day; and 
when I asked, I found out she had n’t been in 
the store that day, either. 

Well, then I knew Gracia would think I 
was like Tom, if I did n’t go to see her, and I 
made up my mind I would go to her house 
before I went home that night. And, all at 
once, I thought that it was just the thing to do 
— to go and tell her about everything. But 
just at closing time, when it was almost the 
minute for the bell to ring, I heard something 
in our office that made a difference right away. 
Mr. Paine had been out for an hour or so and 
he came in just at that time, and one of the men 
spoke to him so that 1 heard. 

“Say, Paine,” he said, “we’ve got this 
simmered down to about fifty or less now. We 
can pick the winners to-night if you like.” 

Mr. Paine hesitated, then he looked at his 
watch and then he shook his head. “No,” 
he said, “morning will do. Everybody ’s 
tired to-night. I am, I know.” 

[ 170 ] 


THE EDGE OF SUCCESS 


“All right,” said the man. “What’ll I do 
with the bunch Do you want them put in 
the vault out in the main office 

“Oh no,” Mr. Paine said. “That isn’t 
necessary. Just put them in the cabinet on 
top of my desk there. They ’ll be safe 
enough.” 

Well, if he had just turned to me and said, 
“W^alter, here is the chance you want,” it 
could n’t have made me think so any quicker 
than that did. 

And then the question just came up to me 
square, whether I would do anything at all or 
whether I would just let our answer go through 
and win if it could. And, all at once, I began 
to think how I would tell father about it all, 
after he got home, and I guess I sort of looked 
at it the way I knew I would look at it then. 
And suddenly, I just got scared to think of 
how I was doing. I knew just as well as 
could be that father would say I should have 
told Mr. Paine all that I knew, right away. 
But when I thought about Gracia and me 
losing our places, and that she was probably 
[ 171 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


worse off than I was, and when I remembered 
that I only had about eighty cents left now, I 
could n’t bear to think of that. I did n’t know 
how I ’d get anything to eat the day after the 
next one, for it would take all my money to 
pay for car fare and my meals in that one more 
day. And if I lost my place I would have 
nearly ten more days after that before my 
father would come home. Of course, I 
thought about going to Mr. Mallory, but when 
I remembered what I’d told him when I 
bought the canoe, I could n’t. 

And then, at last, I just made up my mind 
that I ’d stop our answer from winning and 
settle it all that way, by going and taking it 
out from the others in Mr. Paine’s cabinet. 
And I ’d let all the rest come as it would. 

And just about that time the closing-bell 
rang, and so I knew that the only thing I 
could do would be to stay and hide somehow 
till every one was gone, and then go and look 
through the puzzle-answers. 

Well, Tom went out as soon as the bell 
rang, but I hung around and hoped Mr. Paine 

[ 172 ] 


THE EDGE OF SUCCESS 


would go right away. And, almost as if he 
were trying to make it easy for me, he did hurry 
up and leave. I thought it would be easy 
then, but one thing I had n’t thought about 
came up to make trouble for me. The jani- 
tors and their helpers, who always come into 
the offices to clean them just the second that 
the clerks are out, were in the general room 
before Mr. Paine had left, and I knew that if 
I did n’t hide they would see me, and then 
I’d have to go right away. 

There ’s a closet in the room where Tom 
and I work, in which we always hang our uni- 
form coats. I was afraid it was n’t a very 
good place to hide in, but I had to do whatever 
I was going to do pretty quick. So when I 
heard the cleaners in the outer office, there 
was n’t anything left for me to do but to jump 
into that place, and get as far back in the 
corner as I could and wait. And so I did. 
But one thing was bad. The door of the closet 
would n’t stay closed without latching it, and 
I did n’t want to latch it, because there was n’t 
any way to open it from the inside. It was n’t 

[ 173 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


a heavy latch and I knew I could get out of 
the closet by breaking it; but if I did that, it 
would make a noise that maybe a watchman 
or somebody would hear, and then I’d be 
caught. So I was scared about that. But 
the only thing I could do was hope and just 
wait and wait, hoping till I knew how it would 
come out. 

But, just as I was afraid it might be, the 
very first cleaner who came into our room, 
shut the closet door the very first thing. She 
was a woman who came in to empty the waste- 
baskets, and I could hear her moving them 
around and rattling the paper after she shut 
the door, for the closet was made of only thin 
boards and you could hear through it very 
easily. Then, in a few minutes I heard the 
other women come in with their brooms and 
mops and pails, and they just cleaned and 
cleaned and cleaned. And they talked in a 
funny kind of half-English, half-foreign way 
that was hard to understand. But they 
did n’t open the closet. 

Well, after they got through, I had to wait 

[ 174 ] 


THE EDGE OF SUCCESS 


again while they finished up in the outer oflBce. 
And then, after I had listened and listened 
and decided that, at last, they had finished 
and were going, I heard somebody coming 
across the office, and in a minute I heard Mr. 
Paine’s voice. He had come back, and some- 
body was with him. 

“Come right in here, old man,” he was 
saying, as he came where I could hear him. 
“We can have our talk here.” 

And then I heard them come in and go on 
into the private office and pull the chairs 
around. I moved over to the door and tried 
to listen to know if they were talking about the 
rebus-prize, but I could n’t hear any words 
they said, only just their voices. Pretty soon, 
though, I could smell tobacco smoke. It 
just about discouraged me, too, for I was 
awfully tired then. My legs and back were 
aching and I felt as if I could n’t stand there 
and wait any longer. 

But after a while, I made up my mind that 
I would sit down on the floor, and I did, and 
there I sat, half asleep and half awake, for a 

[ 175 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


time that seemed like all night. They talked 
and talked, and sometimes they laughed, and 
then they talked again. And I thought I ’d 
never had anything so hard to do as to keep 
awake and wait. I don’t know but I did go 
to sleep once for a little while, for I know I 
got to wondering suddenly where I was and 
what was happening to me; and if I ’d been 
awake all the time I would n’t have felt that 
way. 

But at last they did move again and after 
fussing around a little they did go. And then 
the store got quiet so quick that it seemed as 
if just two men could n’t have made it seem as 
if anybody was in the place. And I got waked 
up again, for I knew I had to do something 
hard now. And I listened and listened and 
listened to try to hear anything of the floor- 
watchman, and I could n’t; and so finally, 
I tried the door. 

It held, at first, and for a while I was afraid 
to break out, as I knew I would have to, but 
I did in the end, putting my shoulder against 
the door’s centre and pushing with my feet 

[ 176 ] 


THE EDGE OF SUCCESS 


against the wall back of me. And the door 
did open with a bang that made a terrible 
racket through the quiet office, and I was as 
scared as could be for a minute. But after 
I ’d waited again and nothing happened, I 
stepped out into the room. And I shut the 
door and found that the latch was n’t broken, 
after all, because the door had sprung enough 
to let it slip out of its catch, instead. 

And then with my heart beating very hard, 
I crept across the floor to Mr. Paine’s door and 
looked in, and just as I did I felt a little breath 
of air from his window, which was left partly 
open, and something that was n’t tobacco 
smoke blew in my eyes and I smelled it and 
stopped. And next instant, I turned my head 
and saw a light by the desk, and then I saw 
that there was smoke; and then suddenly, a 
blaze burst out and I knew that something 
there was afire and burning. 


[ 177 ] 


CHAPTER XIII 

FIRE ! 

T REALLY knew that there was fire in 
Mr. Paine’s office before I saw the blaze 
beside his desk, for the smell of the smoke of 
burning paper is n’t very easy to make a mis- 
take about. The minute I saw the flames, 
though, I just seemed to get cold all over, and 
I know I could n’t do anything for a minute, 
but just stand and stare at them. I could n’t 
see from the door just what it was that was 
burning, for the blaze was behind the desk 
and next to the window. It had leaped up 
pretty high, though, and I could see the tips 
of the flames both above and at one side of 
the desk. It looked wild and awful in the 
darkness, too, with the smoke just streaming 
up and all turning red where the fire ran 
through it. 

But, after the first second, I knew that if I 
did n’t do something, the whole place would 

[ 178 ] 


FIRE! 


be afire in a minute, and then maybe the oflices 
and the store, too, would all burn out. And I 
guess it was just terror that this was what I 
was going to see happen that made me run 
into the office instead of away from it. I 
wanted to run away, I can tell you, for I 
did n’t want anybody ever to know I ’d been 
there at all; but I knew without thinking 
about it, I guess, that if anybody stopped this 
fire, it would have to be me. 

I ran around the desk, and saw what was 
burning. It was the waste-basket. I could n’t 
understand how it happened to be full of 
papers just after the cleaners had been there, 
but I found out afterwards that Mr. Paine 
had put a lot of waste things from his desk in 
there while he and the other man were in the 
oflSce after the janitor’s work was done. It 
was Mr. Paine, too, who had dropped a burnt 
match that still had fire in its head, into the 
basket, and it had burned just slowly, — 
smouldering, as they call it, till he had gone. 

Well, there was n’t any water in the oflice. 
We had a cooler for drinking-water, but it was 

[ 179 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


empty, for the cleaners always empty it at 
night and the janitor fills it in the morning. 
And there was n’t a rug, or anything to throw 
over the basket, for the rug on Mr. Paine’s 
floor was a big one, and the table and chairs 
stood on it, so it could n’t be lifted. I did n’t 
know what to do or how to fight the fire; but 
after I ’d tried to think and could n’t, I saw the 
flames just gaining and gaining, every instant, 
and I got desperate. There was n’t anything 
else I could do, so I just jumped right into the 
basket and stamped on the papers and tried 
to crush them down and put out the flames. 

But it was n’t any use. The sparks flew 
all over, and pieces of burning paper came up, 
and some went over on the rug; and, though 
the blaze was a little less for a second, it went 
all around the sides of my feet and came up 
and burned my legs like everything; and I 
could feel it so hot through my shoes even, 
that I could n’t stand it, and I had to jump 
out again. I stepped on all the pieces of 
paper on the rug, quick as I could, and put 
them out; but the smoke was in my face so 
[ 180 ] 


FIRE ! 


thick that I could hardly see or breathe, and 
I choked all up and coughed, and the tears ran 
out of my eyes, and I could n’t keep them open. 

I guess I was in about as bad a fix as I ever 
had been, where there was n’t anybody at all 
to help me. I could have holloed for the 
watchman, of course, but I don’t believe I 
really thought about that, for I ’d been thinking 
so hard about keeping still and not letting him 
hear me or see me, that I did n’t get over it. 
In that minute or two, while I was trying to 
put out the fire, I was still thinking that I must 
be quiet as I could, and must do it alone if I 
could. So, even when the fire seemed to be 
beating me, I would n’t give up, or shout; I 
just squeezed the tears out of my eyes and 
ducked under the smoke to try again. 

It ’s awful how fast fire burns in papers, 
when it has n’t any business to be there, and 
it seemed in a second as if I had n’t done a 
bit of good by stamping on it and burning my 
legs, for the flames were just burning right 
into the bunch of papers and were getting hold 
of the basket itself, too, which was just a 
[ 181 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


willow one. But when I saw that, it seemed 
as if it would n’t matter how I might get 
burned, I had to stop that fire. I don’t know 
how I happened to think of it, but at that 
instant, I remembered that the window was 
open and that it might be possible for me to 
throw the basket out, if I was very quick. So 
I just reached over and pushed the sash up as 
quickly as I could and then I grabbed that 
willow basket and swung it over the sill and 
threw it as far out into the street as I could. 

Well, that put the fire out of the office, of 
course, but I burned my hands so that I was 
ready to hollo out loud, it hurt so. You see, 
the minute I moved the basket, the air pushed 
the flames right against my hands, and I guess 
I ’d have been on fire myself if it had taken any 
longer than it did to get to the window. Even 
the way it was, I just had to bend over and 
hold my hands between my knees and grit my 
teeth hard to keep from making a noise about 
it. It ’s easy to think that you won’t cry for 
anything, before anything happens to you; 
but when you really get hurt so that the pain 
[ 182 ] 


FIRE! 


goes way inside of you and you can’t think of 
anything else, then it is n’t so easy. Of 
course, the smoke had got in my eyes, and 
that made tears run out anyway; but I guess 
I cried, all right, for those burns just seemed as 
if they ’d gone clear in to the bone. 

After a minute or two, though, I knew I ’d 
have to move pretty quick, for two reasons. 
Of course, somebody out in the street must 
see the burning basket, for it would n’t be pos- 
sible for such a thing to fall on the pavement 
and not have anybody notice it. So somebody 
would know pretty quick that it must have 
come out of Maitland’s building, and there 
would be a search right away. Then, besides, 
there was so much smoke now in the office, 
that the watchman would smell it sure next 
time he came through, and I knew it could n’t 
be very long before he must be passing. 

That made me sort of forget about my hands 
and remember the rebus-answers, so I turned 
right away from the window and started to go 
to Mr. Paine’s desk and the cabinet on it, in 
which the answers had been put, when, all at 

[ 183 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


once, I heard some one shout, somewhere 
down stairs, and next second I heard running 
and then other people holloing and coming 
nearer and nearer. 

I knew I ’d be caught pretty quick if I did n’t 
get out of there, and so I could n’t take even 
a second to get a look at those rebus-answers. 
I just had to run. And I did run, too — out 
of Mr. Paine’s room and through our office. 
I did n’t dare go into the closet again, for I 
thought the watchman might make a search 
all through the place when he found where the 
fire had been; so I passed the closet-door by, 
and ran on out into the general office. 

I ran away from the direction of the stairs, 
of course, because I expected the watchmen 
would come up that way. I was sure there 
would be two or three of them pretty quick; 
but the elevators do not run at night, because 
the power is shut off, so the stairs were the 
only way they could come. I ran along the 
front of the office, on my tip-toes too, you can 
imagine, and over into the big, dark aisles of 
the china department that was next to ours, 

[ 184 ] 


FIRE! 


and on through into a room where they have 
Japanese things. And there, I just slid into 
a corner behind a big vase that stood there 
and that was higher than my head, and 
dropped down on the floor, as tired as if I ’d 
been running a lot farther. 

I found out that I was just trembling, too, 
all over, because I was scared, I suppose ; and 
as soon as I was still, the pain in my hands 
came back again, and the burns just throbbed 
and throbbed, as if every beat that my heart 
gave made them all hurt worse. But I lis- 
tened to the noise and I heard the watchmen 
run in through the rooms to our office. And 
I heard them talk about the smoke, all excited 
as could be, and I could even hear some 
things they said. So I found out that some- 
body had seen that basket go shooting by 
some lower window, all on fire, and that there 
had n’t been any time wasted before they 
tried to find out where it came from. And 
then, all at once, I heard Mr. Paine’s voice, 
and I knew he had come back, too. 

The queer part of it was that the watchman 

[ 185 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


who belonged on our floor was sure that one 
of the cleaners must have thrown the basket 
out of the window; and so, after they had 
talked and looked all around and opened 
several windows to let the smoke out, he called 
some of the cleaners back from another floor 
and he and Mr. Paine asked them about it. 
I could n’t hear all the answers, but it was 
very plain that they did n’t know anything 
about it at all, of course. But our watchman 
got mad about it, because he thought probably 
one of the women had been to blame for the 
Are and did n’t dare tell, and he made a great 
fuss. But he could n’t find out anything at 
all for they did n’t know any more than he 
did about it. 

Well, they were an awfully long time looking 
around and talking and asking questions and 
then searching again. And they did look in 
our closet, for I heard them open and shut the 
door and talk about it. but at last they had to 
give up; and, after making his regular rounds, 
the watchman made everybody go, and went 
out himself. Then the store seemed more 
[ 186 ] 


FIRE! 


quiet than ever, but I did n’t dare move for 
ever and ever so long. 

I had n’t any idea what time it was then, 
but I was sure it must be late, and I was as 
surprised as I could be when I heard a clock 
strike, at last, outside, and what do you think ? 
— it was only eight o’clock. I could n’t 
believe it at first, but when I counted up, I 
thought probably the clock was right. The 
store closed at half-past five, and the cleaners 
must have finished work by six. Then Mr. 
Paine had come in and probably stayed till 
seven or a little after, and all the rest had hap- 
pened in less than an hour. Such a lot can 
happen in an hour, you know, when things 
come very fast, and they had happened pretty 
fast for me that night. 

But the next thing that I thought of was 
that my chance at the rebus-answers was n’t 
gone yet, for I could go back to the office again 
now, as safely as I could before the fire, and 
perhaps might have a better chance still. So 
after I thought sure nobody could be on our 
floor any longer, I got out from behind the 

[ 187 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


vase again and crept back through the china 
department. I stopped to listen, every few 
steps, and I did n’t make a sound, I am sure, 
that could be heard any distance away at all. 
So I was slow getting to our oflfice. 

But just as I got almost to the door, I saw 
that there was still a light in our office, and 
then suddenly somebody moved and I heard 
steps, and then Mr. Paine’s voice came 
out plain as could be. He was talking to some 
one who had been waiting with him in the 
office. 

“Well,” he said, “I’m ready to go now. 
And I guess I ’ll put these rebus-answers in the 
vault after all. They’ll be safer there.” 

And next minute he snapped out the light 
and he and a watchman came out of the room. 
I dodged behind a pillar and they passed as 
near to me as the width of a desk, but they went 
straight across to the big vault in the outer 
office. And they worked the combination 
lock and opened the door, and by the light of 
the watchman’s lantern I saw Mr. Paine go 
in with his hands full of the rebus-answers, 
[ 188 ] 


F I R E I 


and come out without them. And I knew 
that the chance I ’d thought I had was gone. 

But while I was standing there in the dark, 
just about wild with all the worry, I thought 
of something I had n’t thought of at all before, 
and it came to me so quick that it seemed as 
if I had been awfully stupid never to have 
thought about it before. I thought of Tom’s 
uncle, Mr. Ben Peck, whose name we had 
signed to our rebus-answer, and I thought 
that if he knew that Tom had cheated, he 
could stop all the trouble in a very little while, 
if he was a good man. And when that came 
into my mind I knew that the thing for me to 
do was to let him know first thing and then 
see what he would do. He could tell me 
something that would make me know sure, 
anyway, I thought, and I began to hope again 
right away. 

It was n’t a very good thing to hope about, 
for I thought pretty quick that if Tom’s uncle 
was anything at all like Tom, he might not be 
very honest, and so would n’t be willing to 
give up a chance at the prize. But I did n’t 

[ 189 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


really believe a man would do such a thing 
unless he was a thief, or something; anyway, 
it was something to hope about, and it was 
something I could do to tell him, so I felt 
better. 

But the next thing was to get out of the 
store now, without getting caught; and that, 
I knew, would be hard. I did n’t see how I 
was going to do it, either, at first. 

Of course, every door was locked now, and 
the watchmen were going around and around. 
There would be one door open for the cleaners 
to go out of, but some one must be watching 
that, so I could n’t go by without having ques- 
tions asked, for the watchman would know 
I was n’t a cleaner, of course. 

Well, I tried to think of all the places in the 
store that I knew, where it would be possible 
to get out of a door or a window, and I re- 
membered, pretty quick, the basement where 
the wagon-boys work, when they are in, and 
where I ’d worked a little when I first came to 
the store. And, almost in a second then, I 
remembered a window where I once crawled 

[ 190 ] 


FIRE! 


out when we were playing a game among the 
packing-cases down there, and when I had 
been hiding in a box near the street wall. 
That window opened right out on the pave- 
ment of a side street, I knew; and I thought 
if it had n’t been changed, and if I could get 
down there to it without being seen or heard, I 
could get out that way. So I made up my 
mind quick to try. 

I guess I don’t need to tell all that happened 
on my way down stairs and around through 
the store, because it was so much easier to 
get through than I thought, that it surprised 
me very much. I had to stop once or twice 
and hide, but I got along pretty fast, for the 
watchmen could n’t be in every place at once, 
and you could tell where they were because 
they carried lights that you could see. And 
when I got down into the shipping-room, I 
found things just as they used to be, even the 
bolt on the window just the same. So I 
climbed up on the packing-boxes and got out, 
and nobody saw me or heard me at all. I 
had to leave the window unlocked, of course, 

[ 191 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


but I could n’t help that; and I knew the 
basement watchman would find it unlocked 
and fasten it again, and he could n’t ever 
know how it happened to be left so. 

It was too late to go to Gracia’s then, and 
so I went home. 


[ 192 ] 


CHAPTER XIV 

THE STREET OF THE BROKEN SIDEWALKS 

J^EXT morning I hustled off quick and 
early too. I found my hands just aw- 
fully sore, but I did n’t tell anybody or let 
anybody see them. I got my breakfast at the 
restaurant for fifteen cents, and I had only 
fifty-five cents left after I ’d paid my car fare 
down town. But I would n’t think of any- 
thing else, only to try to see Mr. Ben Peck, if 
I could, first of all. 

At the oflSce, the first things I heard were 
about the fire in the waste-basket and about 
somebody throwing it outdoors, and it was 
then that I heard Mr. Paine say that he must 
have been to blame, for he had put the papers 
into the basket and had thrown a burnt 
match in afterwards. Nobody ever thought 
that I could have anything to do with the 
matter, though, and so nobody asked me any 
questions. They all thought that one of the 

[ 193 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


cleaners had found the fire and had thrown the 
basket out, and that for some reason she was 
afraid to tell. I kept my burns out of sight 
and they were not hurting so much then. I 
guess they could n’t have been very bad. 

But I was only eager to get away from the 
store as early as I could and go to find Tom’s 
uncle; so when I got a chance, I just asked 
Mr. Paine if I might be away a while ; and he 
just said yes, as if he did n’t mind at all. So 
I started out to find the address at which Mr. 
Peck lived. No. 12 Drill Street, which I re- 
membered, because it was a funny name for a 
street. 

I had almost to run away from Tom, at the 
office, because he seemed so very anxious to 
know where I was going, but I got away from 
him finally, and when I was in the street I 
thought it was going to be easy to finish up 
the whole thing very quick. But when I 
asked a policeman how to go, he said he had 
never heard of Drill Street. He looked in a 
little book he had, though, and after a while 
he found it on a map, and showed it to me. 

[ 194 ] 


BROKEN SIDEWALKS 


“It’s not much of a street,” he said. 

“No,” I answered, “but the number I want 
to go to is only No. 12.” 

“It’s a bad neighborhood, that,” he said, 
looking at me sharp. 

“Is it.?” I asked. That made me feel un- 
comfortable; but in a minute I knew I had to 
go just the same. 

“ I ’ve got to go there on a particular errand,” 
I said. 

“Well,” he answered, “don’t stay around 
there, or you ’ll get in a fuss or something.” 

Then he told me what car to take to get 
near to Drill Street, and then I went on. I 
thought it must be a pretty bad place; but I 
was n’t very much afraid, and I made up my 
mind to hurry all I could, anyway. It was a 
long ride, and it seemed to me the car never 
would get there, but at last it did, and then I 
was n’t very much surprised that the police- 
man had said it was a bad place. 

The avenue the car ran on was poor enough, 
but when the conductor pointed to a cross 
street and told me that was Drill Street, I 

[ 195 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


thought I ’d never seen such a place. It was 
a little narrow road, without any pavement 
and with the mud all cut up with wheels in the 
middle, as if it was so soft that it could n’t hold 
up any kind of a load. Then there were piles 
of ashes and old cans and sticks and pieces of 
paper and such things all over everywhere. 
Almost the first thing I saw in the street was a 
pig, and that looks very funny in a city street 
like that, with an electric car running right 
by the corner not a block away. 

The sidewalks were broken, and the wooden 
fences had n’t any gates. The street was 
only about wide enough to just let one wagon 
pass another without getting the wheels on the 
sidewalk, and the houses were all that dull 
color, showing they had n’t had any paint 
on them for a long, long time. In one place 
a chimney had fallen over, and the people had 
just let the bricks lie where" they fell on the 
roof and in the door-yard, as if they did n’t 
care. And everything else seemed just like 
you would think it might. 

Well, I did n’t like to go into that street 

[ 196 ] 


BROKEN SIDEWALKS 


very well, but I did go after a while. I had 
my uniform on then, because I had n’t thought 
I needed to take it off for that errand. But I 
was sorry pretty quick that I had worn it, for 
some boys who were playing in the street 
began to hollo at me just as soon as they saw 
me ; and when I did n’t pay any attention tq 
them, they began to throw dirt out of the road. 

I had to look for No. 12 before I could 
think I ’d find Mr. Ben Peck, and hardly any 
of the houses had numbers on them. But I 
found one with No. 14 on it pretty quick, and 
so I chose the one next to it as the one that 
must be No. 12, because all the even numbers 
ought to be on one side of the street, and the 
odd ones on the other. And then I hurried 
and knocked, because the boys were throwing 
dirt pretty hard. 

A woman came to the door. She only 
opened it a little way and looked at me sort 
of cross. 

“What do you want.^” she asked me. 

“Is this No. 12 Drill Street?” 

“I guess it is,” she answered. “Why?” 

[ 197 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“I want to find Mr. Ben Peck,” I told her. 
I was pretty sick about it then, for I was sure 
that I would n’t find any man living down 
there who would make Tom do right about 
the rebus-answer. But I could n’t do any- 
thing but try to find out then. 

“ Ben Peck V the woman repeated. “ What 
do you want of him ” 

“ I want to see him,” I said. 

“What for.?” 

“I ’ve got something to tell him.” 

“You can tell me.” 

“No, I can’t. I can’t tell anybody but 
him.” 

“Why not.?” 

“Because. Are you his wife ? ” I thought 
I ’d better ask that, for maybe I could tell her 
that I knew Tom, and so she would be more 
interested in knowing why I had come. 

“No, I ain’t,” she answered. 

“He lives here, doesn’t he.?” 

“Well, he does! Boards!” 

“ I want to see him about his nephew, Tom 
Moultrie,” I said. 


[ 198 ] 


BROKEN SIDEWALKS 


She opened her eyes. “ Oh,” she answered, 
and then she looked me all over. “You are 
from Maitland’s, are you.?” 

“Yes,” I said. 

“Well,” she said, thinking a minute, “you 
can come in. I ’ll see if he ’s here.” 

So I went in. It was a little bit of a house, 
but it was n’t near so dirty as you ’d think from 
the outside. There was n’t any carpet on the 
floor, but there was a table and some chairs 
and some pictures, out of newspapers, on the 
walls. The room was pretty dark, for not 
very much light came in through a side win- 
dow, where the shutters were broken. 

“I’ll go and call him, if he’s here,” the 
woman said to me, but she stopped in the 
middle of walking across the floor and turned 
around to look at me again. She did n’t ask 
me to sit down and I did n’t want to, so I 
stood still and just waited. Pretty soon she 
went on out into another room and I heard 
her talking low to somebody out there. Very 
soon after that, a man came to the door and 
looked in. 


[ 199 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


I could n’t see him very well, for the room 
was darkest close to that doorway, but just 
the minute I looked at him, I thought I had 
seen him before, though I could n’t tell where. 

“Hello,” he said. “What’s wanted 

“Are you Mr. Peck?” I asked. 

“Yes.” 

“I wanted to see you about what Tom 
Moultrie did at the store,” I said. 

“What?” he asked. 

“ Well, I ’ll have to tell all the story,” I an- 
swered, “and it’s sort of long.” 

“Go ahead,” he said. 

Well, then I told him as quickly as I could 
all about the rebus-prize, and all about how 
Tom and Gracia and I had worked on it, and 
how I believed that Tom had cheated, though 
he had denied it. And I told him what Tom 
had said about winning, and how he meant to 
get the prize, and that we would lose our 
places, if we told. And then I stopped and 
waited for him to say something. 

He stood still quite a while, and all the time 
I kept wondering where I ’d seen him before, 
[ 200 ] 


BROKEN SIDEWALKS 


and how I happened to remember it. And 
when he spoke again, I was sure that I’d 
known him before and talked to him. I 
wished he would come out into the light where 
I could see him. But he stood leaning against 
the door-post with his face in the shadow. 

‘‘Well,” he said, slowly. “I don’t know 
anything about what you ’re telling me.” 

“Did n’t Tom tell you.^^” I asked. 

“No, he did n’t tell me,” he answered. 

‘■‘Then you did n’t know that an answer to 
the puzzle was sent in under your name 

“Well, yes,” he said, real slow. “I knew 
that, of course. I sent one.” 

You can hardly think how funny that made 
me feel. I could n’t think out very quick what 
it would mean. It might mean that Tom had 
simply used his uncle’s name without any per- 
mission, and had just expected to tell him, if 
he won. Or it might mean that this man and 
Tom had made it up between them to pretend 
that Mr. Ben Peck’s answer had n’t anything 
to do with ours, and to win the prize that way. 

But just as I was thinking this, Mr. Ben 
[ 201 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


Peck stood up straight in the doorway, and 
came over towards me through the room. 

“I ’ve seen you before, youngster,” he said, 
“haven’t I.?” 

He took hold of me and turned me around 
toward the daylight. But in doing that he 
turned his own face where I could see it plain; 
and who do you suppose it was ? It was the 
man I had found in the little hut on the island 
in the river, on the day of the awful storm. 
It was Mr. Mallory’s duck-man, the man who 
had my silver canoe. 


[ 202 ] 


CHAPTER XV 

LOST — A FRIEND 

rjlHE duck-man recognized me just as 
quick as I did him. I guess he knew 
me first, from the way he spoke. He scarcely 
said anything more after he had looked close 
at me. He just grunted. 

But there was only one thing that came to 
me to say, when I knew who he was, and I 
said it quick. 

“Where’s my canoe?” I asked him. 

“Your canoe?” he repeated. 

“Yes. Where did you go with it and with 
the boat?” 

“Why did n’t you come back?” he asked. 

“I did,” I said. 

“I waited till I thought you’d probably 
decided to stay at Vernon’s for the night,” he 
answered. “Then I had to come up to town 
here that evening, so I could n’t wait any 
longer.” 


[ 203 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Did you bring my canoe?” I asked. 

“ Well,” he answered, “ no, I did n’t. How 
could I? I left it down at my shack on the 
island.” 

“Well, but why?” I asked him. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” he asked me. “I 
did n’t know where you would be.” 

That seemed to be true, and I stopped a 
second. Then he went on suddenly. 

“I’ll bring you your canoe, all right, ”he 
said, sort of cross. “Come down to White’s 
farm to-morrow and I’ll have it for you. 
What ’s the matter with you ? Do you think 
I want to steal it?” 

I guess that was what I ’d thought, but I 
did n’t want to say so, of course. 

“ Well, no,” I answered. And then I said, 
“Yes, I ’ll be glad to come down and get the 
canoe to-morrow.” 

“All right,” he answered. “Now, so far as 
I know, young Tom ’s told you all the truth, 
except that I don’t know anything about your 
answer to this prize-contest. He did n’t tell 
me any of the answers.” 

[ 204 ] 


LOST— A FRIEND 


“Are n’t you going to do anything about it, 
then?” I asked. 

“ Why should I do anything ?” he answered. 
“I don’t know anything about what Toni’s 
done, and I don’t want to spoil my chances of 
winning a prize.” He looked at me queerly. 
“ Who ’s won the prizes ?” he asked, suddenly. 

“I don’t know,” I answered. 

“I thought they’d decide to-day?” 

“ It is n’t decided yet — or it was n’t when 
I left the store.” 

“I see,” he said. 

There was n’t anything left for me to do 
then but go. I was n’t quite ready to believe 
that he had told me the truth about not know- 
ing his name was on our rebus-answer, or 
about his sending in an answer himself, or 
even about the canoe, but I didn’t dare ask 
any questions that would make him think I 
doubted. So I thought the best thing I could 
do would be to go as soon as I could, and think 
it all over again, and decide what next to do. 
So I went toward the door. 

“You tell Tom he better be careful, for 

[ 205 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


me,” said Mr. Peck, as he opened the door 
for me. “Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye,” I answered. 

He stood in the door and looked after me as 
I went down the dirty little street, and the 
boys who had thrown the dirt and who were 
outside waiting for me to come out saw him 
and did n’t seem to dare to do anything. I 
supposed they must be afraid of him. So I 
got to the car all right and went away again 
back down town and to the office. 

When I got in Mr. Paine was not there, but 
Tom was. I had n’t yet decided what to do, 
but he did n’t give me any chance to think. 

“Say,” he said. “Where have you been.^^” 

“ On an errand,” I answered. 

“ Where he said again. 

“To a place where I had to go,” I said. 
“It is n’t any concern of yours.” 

“Well,” he answered, not getting mad, 
“ Mallory from the sporting-goods department 
has been looking for you two or three times, 
yesterday and to-day. He was in and talked 
to Mr. Paine, too, about you.” 

[ 206 ] 


LOST — A FRIEND 


“About me ?” 

“Yes.” 

“How do you know.^^” 

“I heard him.” 

“What about me.^^” 

“I could n’t hear it all.” 

I looked at him pretty close and I thought 
I could see he was laughing at me, so I made 
up my mind not to talk to him. As Mr. Paine 
was n’t there, and as there was n’t anything to 
do till he came back, I thought I ’d go right 
up then and see Mr. Mallory. He probably 
wanted to tell me something about the canoe, 
and I surely had something to tell him now. 

But on my way up to the sixth floor in the 
elevator I heard two men talking, and what 
they said interested me very much. 

“Well,” one of them said right behind me, 
“I guess that rebus-contest will pay pretty 
well. They got a lot of answers.” 

“Who won?” asked the other man. 

“They don’t know yet.” 

“Haven’t they finished going through 
them?” 


[ 207 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Yes, but I believe it lies between two for 
first prize, and it has n’t been decided yet.” 

“But we’ve got an order up in the piano 
department to get out the prize instruments. 
They’re going to deliver them at once, it seems, 
and exhibit duplicates in the display window 
downstairs.” 

The elevator came to the sixth floor just as 
the man said this, but I thought I would stay 
on and hear all I could, so I did not get off. 

“Yes, they are going to make a full window 
of the thing. It ’s a good ad,” the first man 
said. 

“ Who are the two from whom the first will 
be chosen.?” asked the other man. 

“I don’t know. I saw the list, but I don’t 
remember the names. One of them was 
Waller or Walter or something like that, I 
think.” 

I just held my breath to hear what he would 
say the other one was, but he did n’t say. He 
could n’t remember, and when we got to the 
floor where the piano department was, the 
two got off. I wanted to follow them, but 
[ 208 ] 


LOST — A FRIEND 


was afraid to, then, so I went on up to the top 
of the building and then came back. The 
second time, though, I did get off at the piano- 
department floor and walked over into that 
department as if I were just looking for some- 
body. 

They were busy there, and everybody was 
talking about the rebus-prize. But nobody 
seemed to know just who the winners were. 
They did n’t pay any attention to me, so I 
went around and looked at the pianos. I 
could n’t help feeling that our guess would 
perhaps have a fair chance to win after all, 
after what the duck-man had said. I thought 
as I looked at those pianos that anybody 
would surely give half the price of one of them 
in a second, if we won, and we would have all 
the money we wanted. 

When I found out that I could n’t learn any 
more by staying there, I went out and down to 
the sporting-goods room. I was sort of nerv- 
ous about seeing Mr. Mallory, but wanted to 
know what he wanted, and I certainly wanted 
him to know about the canoe. But when he 

[ 209 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


saw me, the first thing he said was not about 
the canoe or the duck-man. 

“Walter,” he said, “I’m glad to see you. 
I’ve been looking for you for two days, but you 
were out every time I was down there. Has 
Mr. Paine said anything to you about the 
piano-department prize-contest ? ” 

I don’t believe I said anything for a minute, 
this was so sudden and so different from what 
I expected. Then at last I told him no. 

“Well,” he said, “I didn’t know but you 
might know something that you could tell him. 
Will you tell me something if I ask you 

“Yes, sir.” 

I just expected he was going to ask me if 
I had sent in an answer to the rebus-puzzle, 
and I ’d have to say yes, of course, but I made 
up my mind that I never would be the one to 
tell that Gracia had anything to do with it. 
But he surprised me entirely again. 

“ Were you in your oflBce one morning 
before you got hurt when a package came in 
from Redfern, the printer?” 

I remembered, of course, right away, about 
[ 210 ] 


LOST — A FRIEND 


that package that Mr. Paine found opened on 
his desk. 

“Do you mean the one Mr. Paine found 
open.?^” I asked. 

“Yes,” he answered, and his eyes grew sort 
of wider as if he were surprised. 

“No, sir,” I said. “I wasn’t there when 
it came.” 

“How do you know the one I mean.^^” 

“Because Mr. Paine asked us if we had 
seen anybody in his office, and said the pack- 
age had been opened.” 

“ Did young Moultrie tell you anything 
about the package or what was in it.?” 

“No, sir.” 

I hardly knew what to say about Tom, for 
he had been in Mr. Paine’s office when I got 
there that morning and had told me he had 
been looking at the pay-roll. I did n’t want 
to tell on him, for somehow, when you come 
to the very point of telling on anybody, you 
can hardly do it, no matter how mean they 
have been to you. But Mr. Mallory’s next 
question made it easier for me in one way. 

[ 211 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Did you ever know the man we saw down 
the river the other day, before you saw him 
that day?’’ he asked. 

“Why, no,” I answered. 

“Never saw him before?” 

“No, sir, not as I know of.” 

“Did you talk to him about the prize- 
contest that day?” 

“Why, no. Why should I?” 

Mr. Mallory looked at me very funny; 
then, all at once he bent over and asked 
me another question, sort of as if he hated 
to ask it. 

“Did you ever see a sheet containing the 
printed answers to the prize-rebus, Walter?” 
he asked. 

Well, of course, his questions sounded as if 
he suspected me, and as if Mr. Paine knew 
something about Mr. Ben Peck. I could n’t 
get it all very clear through my head, just that 
minute, but I knew the best way was to say 
just what was true. 

“Yes,” I answered. 

He looked surprised again, and then, sud- 
[ 212 ] 


LOST— A FRIEND 


denly he sort of stiffened up and looked at me 
disgusted, as if he had just found out that I 
was n’t square and simply had n’t any use 
for me any more. But in a minute he looked 
puzzled again. 

“ I always believed you ’d tell the truth,” he 
said. “ What did you do with the sheet P ” 

“I did n’t do anything with it.” 

“Didn’t you copy it.^^” 

Well, I ’d been feeling sicker and sicker 
every minute from the beginning of his ques- 
tions, for I was beginning to think how every- 
body else was going to look at what I ’d done, 
when it was known. But when he asked me 
that question, I saw right away that he sus- 
pected me of something I never had done and 
never would have done, and I could n’t help 
thinking that he had n’t any right to say that. 
It made me mad, for even if I was to blame 
for doing some things I had done, I had n’t 
been so mean and sneaking as that. I just 
looked at him, trying to see whether he really 
thought I would do such a thing, and then I 
answered him. 


[ 213 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“No,” I said, “I didn’t copy it, and you 
know it.” 

He hesitated a second, but he hardly 
changed any. 

“Did you give it to anybody else.?” he 
asked, after a minute. 

By that time I began to find out that if I 
let him ask me questions that way it would n’t 
be possible for me ever to make him believe 
the truth about anything. He was already 
thinking I ’d done something wrong, and he 
would n’t be fair in what he thought about 
everything else I could tell him. But I had 
to answer. 

“I guess I know what you mean,” I said. 
“ Whatever I say you are going to think wrong 
about, so I ’ll just tell you that I never saw 
that printed rebus-answer till after the contest 
was closed.” 

“You did n’t .P” he asked. 

“No, I didn’t. And you haven’t any 
right to think I would cheat.” 

“I haven’t accused you of cheating.” 

“You might just as well.” 

[ 214 ] 


LOST — A FRIEND 


He started to ask me something else, but 
]ust at that second somebody came up behind 
me where I stood at the counter and spoke to 
him. When I looked around, I saw it was 
Tom. 

"‘Mr. Mallory,” Tom said. “Mr. Paine 
wants you to come down stairs and see him.” 


[ 215 ] 


CHAPTER XVI 

CROSS-EXAMINATION 

rriOM looked awfully funny, I thought, 
and it sort of made me think of other 
things than what we’d talked about, for a 
second. It was easy to see that something 
had happened to scare him. But Mr. Mallory 
was pretty quick to move. 

“All right,” he said, and then, “Come, 
Walter, we ’ll both go and have this thing out.” 

Well, of course, I thought then that the end 
had come, and I just had to grit my teeth hard 
to keep from showing that it was anything for 
me to go down there where they would ask 
questions. But I walked right to the elevator, 
and Mr. Mallory came too, and Tom last. 
He did n’t seem to know what to do. We 
all went down together and through the offices 
and to our room. But when we got there, 
Tom stopped and did n’t go into Mr. Paine’s 
room with us. I could n’t understand why 
then, for I supposed we were both going to 
[ 216 ] 


CROSS-EXAMINATION 


be questioned. But when I stepped into Mr. 
Paine’s room, I saw something that made me 
forget for a minute even that Tom was staying 
outside. I saw Mr. Ben Peck, the duck-man, 
sitting by a window, with his hat in his hands, 
and talking to Mr. Paine. 

“Hello,” said Mr. Paine, turning around 
quick. “ Oh, the boy was with you, was he ? 
I’ve been looking for him. Mr. Peck has 
just got here.” 

That showed that they had somehow con- 
nected me with Mr. Peck, of course, but it 
made me think of something else, too, right 
away — something I had n’t thought of before, 
and that was that one of the answers that had 
Mr. Peck’s name on it must have won a prize. 
They had sent for Mr. Peck probably right 
while I was at his house, or maybe before. 
But Mr. Paine did n’t wait at all. 

“Now,” he said, “Mr. Peck, you know 
this boy?” 

The duck-man nodded. 

“When did he tell you about this rebus- 
contest?” 


[ 217 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


I stared. I did n’t know what had been 
talked about before I came in, but that 
sounded as if the duck-man had been accusing 
me of something. But when I looked at him, 
he was just grinning, though it was n’t a 
pleasant grin. 

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Mr. 
Paine,” he said. 

“What do you mean.?” asked Mr. Paine. 

“ I mean that you ’re trying to make some- 
thing out of nothing.” 

“ Is that so ? Well, I hope so. McDonald, 
when did you see this man first?” 

He turned to me pretty sudden, but I was 
ready to tell all I knew, now — except about 
Gracia, so I answered quick, too. 

“The day Mr. Mallory took me down the 
river, Friday — but that has n’t got anything 
to do with the rebus-prize, Mr. Paine.” 

“ It has n’t ? Why not ? ” 

“Well, Paine,” interrupted Mr. Mallory, 
“the contest was closed then, was n’t it?” 

“No,” answered Mr. Paine, looking at 
Ben Peck. “Not till Saturday night. When 
[ 218 ] 


CROSS-EXAMINATION 


did you send in this answer of yours, Mr. 
Peck.?^” 

“Saturday,” answered the duck-man. 
“You’ve got no business to say that it ain’t 
on the square,” he added. 

“I’m not saying that it is n’t all right, Mr. 
Peck,” said Mr. Paine quickly, but a little 
sharp, too. “But something queer has hap- 
pened in this oflSce and we have got to inves- 
tigate.” 

He reached over to his desk and picked up 
a large card and held it up. 

“This is your answer to our puzzle, is n’t 
it?'' he asked. 

It was such a big card that I was surprised, 
for I had n’t supposed anybody would send 
in an answer in such a way. But Mr. Peck 
said yes, it was his answer, and before I had 
time to think, Mr. Paine went on. 

“You see we are getting these prize- winning 
aiiswers ready to frame,” he said. “We are 
going to show them in the windows.” 

The way he was holding the card, I could n’t 
see the face of it at all; and what he said 

[ 219 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


about framing made me think that the answer 
itself might not have been written on the card, 
but only mounted so, for putting into a frame. 
So I could n’t tell, possibly, whether it might 
be the answer we had sent in under Mr. Peck’s 
name, or another one which he himself had 
sent. 

“Now,” said Mr. Paine, “this answer is 
the winner of the first prize, and under ordi- 
nary circumstances we should make the award 
without any question; but I must have two 
or three things explained before I can give my 
consent to having the prize delivered. You 
have owed the sporting department of this 
house a little bill, Mr. Peck.^^” 

The duck-man nodded. 

“ Mr. Mallory here, tells me he sent you a 
number of letters about that bill and heard 
nothing from you. When he made inquiries, 
he was told by your local postmaster that you 
do not read or write English very readily. Is 
that so?” 

The duck-man nodded. He seemed a little 
ashamed, but he did n’t speak. 

[ 220 ] 


• CROSS-EXAMINATION 


“Well, then,” said Mr. Paine, “you cannot 
be surprised, can you, that we naturally won- 
dered how you could send in such an answer 
in this contest Mr. Mallory happened to 
be in my office here and to hear your name 
spoken of as the prize-winner. He recognized 
the name, and he at once thought he should 
tell me about what he knew of you. Now tell 
me how you managed this, will you.^^” 

I thought the duck-man was caught sure, 
then. Even to think of a man who could n’t 
read or write — though that hardly seemed 
possible about the duck-man, when he seemed 
to talk so well — to think of his sending in the 
winning prize answer did seem impossible. 
But when I looked at him, he just grinned 
again. 

“ I can read pictures,” he said. “ I learned 
how to speak English, but read only in Ger- 
man. My boy, he reads and writes, though. 
He made the words I told him to.” 

“He did!” exclaimed Mr. Paine. 

“Yes, he did,” said the duck-man. 

Both Mr. Paine and Mr. Mallory looked 
[ 221 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


very much puzzled, then Mr. Mallory asked 
a question. 

“Where is your boy now.^^” he asked. 

“Gone away,” answered the duck-man. 

“ Gone away where ? ” 

“South. He’s gone to work down on the 
Mississippi.” 

“How old is he?” asked Mr. Paine. 

“Seventeen.” 

“Did he go away suddenly?” 

“He’s been looking for work a long time. 
He just went Monday.” 

I did n’t know what to make out of this 
story. I could n’t tell whether it was true or 
not. If he really had n’t known about Tom’s 
using his name on our rebus-answer, then 
this answer must be his own that he told me 
he had sent in. And just at that minute Mr. 
Paine leaned forward and set the card he was 
holding against the wall on his big table where 
we could all look at it. 

“That’s a pretty nice piece of work,” he 
said, quietly. “There are some other hand- 
some ones, but this is the best.” 

[ 222 ] 


CROSS-EXAMINATION 


Well, I looked at that card, perfectly amazed. 
You can hardly imagine what the sight of it 
seemed like to me. It was no more what I 
expected to see than anything, and in a second 
the whole trouble about the rebus seemed to 
change. It was not a little typewritten answer, 
like what Gracia must have sent, but a great 
big, beautiful, hand-lettered answer, with 
pen-decorations in colored inks, with each 
little picture of the puzzle cut out separately 
and pasted on the cardboard, with the explana- 
tion of that picture carefully lettered under- 
neath, and then the whole answer printed out 
by hand on the lower half of the sheet, in a 
way that made me think of the old, big family 
Bible at my grandmother’s house. 

I had been keeping still, as far as that, 
because I did n’t know what they were sus- 
pecting me of exactly; but when I saw that 
card, I was mighty glad I had n’t said any- 
thing, for I thought right away that what the 
duck-man had said must all be true. This 
certainly was n’t the answer we had sent in 
under his name, and so he must be entitled 

[ 223 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


to the prize. Of course, Tom might have 
told him the puzzle-answers, if he knew them. 
But I was just as sure as I could be at that 
minute, that the duck-man was honest and 
had won the prize fair. 

I could hardly believe it, it was so strange; 
but I knew that if I told wLat I knew 'about 
Tom and what we had done, now, that it 
would just be dragging Mr. Peck into trouble 
which I did n’t think he ought to be in. If 
he had n’t had anything to do with Tom’s 
scheme, then it would n’t be right that he 
should get any blame for it. And, if this was 
the kind of answer that would win the prize, 
of course there was n’t any show for our poor 
little typewritten sheet. So, then, there was n’t 
any need to tell anything at all, for ours surely 
had n’t won. 

But Mr. Paine all at once turned to me. 
“McDonald,” he said, “the reason why I ask 
you questions, is because some one else raised 
a suspicion against you, and because the 
things that have happened here made me 
think I ought to talk to you about it. You’ve 

[ 224 ] 


CROSS-EXAMINATION 


got a pretty good reputation here in the store, 
and I want to be able to clear up things that 
seem against you. Now I’m only going to 
ask you one question and I’m going to take 
your word of honor. Will you give it to 
me?” 

“Yes,” I said. 

“Do you know any reason why this answer 
to our puzzle, sent in by Mr. Peck, should not 
be given the prize?” 

That seemed a queer way to put it, 
but it seemed a mighty fair way, too, and it 
made me feel so much better than when Mr. 
Mallory had asked me questions, that it 
suddenly seemed that everything was all 
right, and that I could just answer true to 
that and let it end there, without getting 
anybody into trouble. I looked at Mr. Mal- 
lory a minute but he did n’t look at me, and 
that made me feel harder toward him; for I 
thought he was just believing all the time that 
I would lie or something. Then I turned to 
Mr. Paine. 

“No, sir,” I said. “I don’t know any 

[ 225 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


reason. Mr. Mallory thinks I do; but if 
you ’re going to believe me, I don’t want to 
say anything more about it.” 

Mr. Paine nodded, but Mr. Mallory turned 
to him. 

“He knows more, Paine,” he said. “He 
told me he saw the printed sheet of rebus- 
answers.” 

“I did,” I said, “but not till after the con- 
test was over. It did n’t have anything to do 
with Mr. Peck’s answer.” 

“How did you come to see it.^^” asked Mr. 
Mallory. 

“ I did n’t know what I was looking at, till 
I had read part of it.” 

“ If you ’d explain all about that, we ’d all 
feel better,” he said. 

“If you’d believe me as Mr. Paine does, I 
would n’t have to,” I answered. “All I know 
does n’t make any difference now.” 

“That means that if somebody else had won 
the prize, it might have made a difference.?” 
asked Mr. Mallory. 

“Well,” I said, and then I stopped, for I 
[ 226 ] 


CROSS-EXAMINATION 


did n’t know how to answer that. Then I 
said, “Yes,” right out. 

“ How do you know it won’t make a differ- 
ence with the second or third or other prizes, 
then.^^” asked Mr. Mallory. 

I had n’t thought of that. I ’d just forgotten 
all about any other prize at all except the 
first, and it had n’t even come into my thoughts 
that maybe our answer might have gotten one 
of them. I was confused for a second, and 
could n’t answer, and then I thought right 
away that if our answer had been awarded any 
other prize, they would have noticed that Ben 
Peck’s name was twice in the list of winners. 
So I knew that it could n’t be so. 

“No,” I said, quickly then, “it couldn’t 
have anything to do with any other prize- 
winner, either.” 

But I could see that Mr. Mallory did n’t 
believe me any more now than he had before, 
and he said so, right out, in a minute. 

“Paine,” he said, “I have more reason to 
want to believe this boy than you have. His 
father is a friend of mine. I ’ve always thought 
[ 227 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


the boy was square, but this looks too queer 
for me.” 

He stopped again and then looked at me. 
“Walter,” he said, “where did you get the 
money to buy that canoe .^” 

“From my father,” I said. 

“ Did n’t somebody give it to you for helping 
with the rebus-puzzle.^” 

I stared at him, and then I almost holloed, 
“No, sir!” 

In an instant Mr. Mallory turned to Mr. 
Paine. “Paine,” he said, “his father is out 
of town and has been since last Thursday. 
It was Friday the boy bought the canoe. I 
just found that out to-day. Does this look 
good to you.^” 

Well, I was as mad at him as I could be 
then, for I was telling the truth and had never 
lied to him or anybody through it all, and it 
just seemed as if he was trying to make trouble 
for me. I suppose if I ’d stopped to think, I 
might have seen the reason he had to suppose 
I was n’t honest, because things did look bad 
against me and I would have been in a bad 
[ 228 ] 


CROSS-EXAMINATION 


fix, if Mr. Paine had n’t just said he would 
take my word. I even thought he looked a 
little doubtful now, but he did n’t say anything. 
So I just turned to Mr. Mallory. 

“I did n’t think you ’d be so mean,” I said; 
and all at once, the tears just ran up into my 
eyes and I choked all up and could n’t say a 
thing more. And I never saw anybody’s face 
change the way his did. 

“Walter! Old man!” he exclaimed and 
just started to put his hand on me. 

But I jerked away. “No,” I said, “I ’ll tell 
my father everything when he comes back, 
but I ’ll never tell you.” 

Honestly, I felt bad the next minute, that 
I ’d said that, because he did n’t look at me 
as he had at first now, and seemed just sorry 
over it all; but I was so mad I would n’t take 
it back, and then I just turned and went out 
of the office and Mr. Paine let me go. 

Outside I found Tom sitting on a desk and 
looking pale and sick. I turned away from 
him and went out through the office and into 
one of the back halls near a workroom, to be 

[ 229 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


alone for a minute, but he followed after me 
and caught me. 

“Say,” he said. “Are we fired 

“No,” I answered. “Maybe we ought to 
be, but we are n’t.” 

“Then you did n’t tell!” He sort of whis- 
pered that, glad as could be. 

“No, I did n’t tell,” I said. 

He just stood and looked at me a second. 
“Say,” he said, “you’re all right, after all, 
are n’t you 

“Never mind that,” I answered, thinking 
maybe he was better than I thought. 

“Well, I will mind,” he said. “Now there 
won’t be any more fuss. They ’ll give my 
uncle the prize and we ’ll all get our share.” 

“ Our share ! ” I just sneered at him. “ We 
did n’t win. It was n’t our answer that got 
the prize.” 

But Tom laughed at me. “Was n’t it ? 
Well, it was! You did n’t really think Uncle 
Ben sent in that answer, did you ? Why, he 
never saw it till to-day!” 


[ 230 ] 


CHAPTER XVII 
QUEER NEWS TO CARRY 

J GUESS you may know that when Tom 
said that it was our answer that had won 
the rebus-prize, it sounded so ridiculous to 
me that I did n’t believe it at all. 

‘‘You don’t know what you’re talking 
about,” I said. 

“Don’t I.^” he answered. “Well, maybe 
not. But you ’ll be glad to get your share of 
the money, won’t you, when that Shellwin 
piano is sold.^^” 

“There won’t be any share for anybody 
but your uncle,” I said. “I guess you don’t 
know that he sent in an answer of his own — 
that was n’t ours at all.” 

Tom sobered a little. “He did n’t,” he 
said. 

“Yes he did. I did n’t tell you, but I went 
to see him this morning because I wanted to 
get him to make you do the square thing. And 

[ 231 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


he just told me you ’d never said anything to 
him about using his name on our answer, but 
that he sent in an answer of his own. And 
I’ve seen his answer, and I know.” 

Tom was still a minute, and then he grinned 
a little. “Is that so.^” he said. Then he 
got quite serious all at once. “ Oh well, then, 
I s’pose it’s all up, and we don’t draw anv- 
thing,” he added. 

“We don’t, and I’m mighty glad of it,” I 
answered. 

“It’s too bad, I think,” said Tom, but he 
did n’t seem to care very much. “ We had 
the answers right.” 

“Yes,” I said, “but our little typewritten 
answer would look pretty cheap by the side 
of your uncle’s, even if it was on the square.” 

He looked at me as if he did n’t understand, 
at first, but then he turned away. “Oh 
well,” he answered, “let it go. We don’t 
care.” Then he turned back to me half 
laughing. “So you went out to see Uncle 
Ben, did you ? He told you a lot, I bet.” 

“He told me what I tell you,” I said. 

[ 232 ] 


QUEER NEWS TO CARRY 


“Yes. Well, he deserves to win,” said 
Tom. Then he went away. 

I thought it was queer, but I did n’t want 
to talk to him any more then. I thought 
probably he thought his uncle might give him 
some money, and that was what made him 
care such a very little about our answer not 
winning. But then I began to wonder if, 
after all, there might not be something about 
the whole thing that I did n’t know, that 
would make a difference in it all for me. 

Tom had been so ready to think that we ’d 
won, when he first heard that I had n’t told 
about our part in sending an answer, and he 
had spoken so surely about Mr. Peck not 
being able to send in a prize-winner, that it 
made me a little less confident that I had, 
even now, thought it all out straight. Of 
course, it might be that Mr. Peck had been 
told what the right answers were by Tom, as 
I had thought at first, and now that a little 
time had passed since I had first discovered 
that the prize-winning answer was n’t any- 
thing like ours, the effect that had had on me 

[ 233 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


was n’t quite so strong, and I could see how 
very easily it might be that Mr. Peck had n’t 
told all the truth. 

If Mr. Peck and Tom had made this answer 
together, though, even if it did let Gracia and 
me out of any cheating, still I ought to let Mr. 
Paine know that I suspected Tom of stealing 
the printed answers. It would be different — 
telling on Tom then — than if he had been 
going to get anything out of the prizes. It 
could n’t really be right not to tell, because 
the piano would belong to somebody else and 
not to them. So I began to be all in a fuss 
once more. 

I turned around and walked back toward 
our oflSce again, thinking fast what I should 
do, until I made up my mind at last that I ’d 
acted very foolishly to keep still so long, and 
that, if I would go and tell everything then, 
I would n’t be responsible any more, at least, 
and I just had to get rid of the trouble I was 
in. So, by the time I got to our office I was 
eager to give Mr. Paine every bit of the story. 
But Mr. Paine and Mr. Mallory and Mr. Peck 

[ 234 ] 


QUEER NEWS TO CARRY 


had all gone, even in the little while I had 
been out of the room, and Tom, who was 
there ahead of me, said Mr. Paine had gone 
to see some of the newspapers about announc- 
ing the winners of the prizes. 

But I was n’t going to let anything stop me 
again, so I just thought I ’d go straight and 
tell Gracia all about what I knew, and we ’d 
do whatever she thought was right. 

So I took off my uniform coat and put on 
my other and went out. Of course, Tom 
asked me where I was going, but I did n’t 
tell him, and I went down in the elevator 
without saying anything to anybody in the 
offices about leaving the store. 

But, on the way, all at once I remembered 
again that I did n’t know if Gracia might 
have come back yet, so I went down into the 
basement first to ask about her. I felt mighty 
guilty, too, when I found that she was n’t 
back even yet, and that the girls had heard 
her mother was pretty sick. But I thought 
now I would be sure and see her. So I got 
her address, and then started. 

[ 235 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


Well, I got to Gracia’s home all right. I 
had n’t ever been there, but I found out 
pretty quick that they were n’t so poor as I 
was afraid, though I guess they did both have 
to work. Her mother was a very nice woman, 
and Gracia took me in to see her for a minute, 
though we did n’t talk much. But after we 
came out Gracia told me that she was so much 
better that the doctor had said Gracia could 
go back to work that day and that she was 
going that noon, and could go with me. 

So then, of course, we did n’t wait long, but 
started out together. 

Gracia had had her lunch and I had n’t 
had any, but I did n’t want to say anything 
about it. After paying out all the car-fares 
I ’d had to, I had only forty cents left, and of 
course, I would pay both our fares down town 
and that would leave me only thirty cents. I 
did n’t know what I ’d ever do next day, but 
I had to go ahead then. 

“ Well,” I said, after we started for the car, 
“I’ve got bad news for you.” 

“You have Gracia asked, sort of startled. 

[ 236 ] 


QUEER NEWS TO CARRY 


“Yes. We did n’t win the rebus-prize.” 

“Is that so.^^” 

“Yes. Another person won it.” 

“Of course,” she answered, laughing at me, 
as she always did. 

“Who do you think that person was.?” I 
asked, for I wanted to surprise her. Besides, 
I wanted to know what she’d think. 

“Mr. Maitland.?” she asked, joking again. 

“Of course not,” I said. “Don’t you care 
at all .?” 

“Yes,” she answered, “but what good does 
it do to care.?” 

“Not any.” 

“Who won — any of the girls ?” 

“No — guess again.” 

“ I won’t guess — was it anybody I know ?” 

“No.” 

“Then I don’t care.” 

“Oh, yes, you do. You’ll be interested. 
It was Mr. Ben Peck.” 

She stopped still in the street. “Mr. Ben 
Peck ! ” she repeated. “ Why, that ’s — ” Then 
she hesitated, and we walked on. 

[ 237 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Yes, that’s him,” I said, laughing at 
her then, though I did n’t feel much like 
laughing. 

“That’s the man whose name we signed to 
our answer — Tom’s uncle.” 

“Just so,” I said. “But he won with an 
answer of his own.” 

“Oh! Why, how funny!” 

“Was n’t it queer?” 

“And did n’t ours get anything?” 

“ I guess not. I have n’t heard anything 
of it.” 

“I wonder why it didn’t.” She began to 
look so disappointed, then, that I found she 
really did care. 

“You’ll be surprised when you see those 
that did win,” I said. 

“Shall I? Well, I suppose so. Still, we 
did the best we could, and I thought more 
than you did that we ’d win, I guess.” 

We got into our car together, and it started 
down town. I had n’t been sure just what to 
tell her about Tom, but pretty soon she began 
to ask questions herself that showed she was 

[ 238 ] 


QUEER NEWS TO CARRY 


thinking about the same things that I had 
thought of, so I just let her go on. 

“ Does n’t it seem very queer that Mr. Peck 
should win.^” 

“How does it seem to you?” I asked. 

“Well, if he had ever seen the answer we 
sent in under his name, I ’d be suspicious 
about it. And I can’t help thinking — ” She 
stopped again. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Well, do you know, I don’t like Tom very 
well. Do you suppose he could — do you 
think it is possible? — oh no, I ought not to 
say such a thing.” 

“You mean that you think just the same 
thing I do,” I answered. “I saw Mr. Peck 
to-day at the store, and I thought he was 
honest; but I’m afraid about Tom from the 
way he ’s acted and some things he has done.” 

“You mean you think he told Mr. Peck the 
answers we all worked out for the puzzle, and 
that then Mr. Peck sent in an answer of his 
own?” 

“Something like that.” 

[ 239 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“But that would be awfully mean.” 

“Of course it would.” 

“Did you ask him.^” 

“No, because I did n’t believe it.” 

“Do you believe it now.^” 

I could n’t say I did, though I was n’t sure 
at all but that was the way it had been. But 
what I was thinking was whether I should 
say anything about what I really did suspect 
Tom of — that is, about the cheating. 

“I don’t know what to believe,” I said.^ 


[ 240 ] 


CHAPTER XVIII 

FACE TO FACE WITH A MYSTERY 

'Y^^ELL, we talked a good deal more as 
we went on down town, but I did n’t 
tell her what I thought about Tom or about 
the surprise I knew she would have when she 
saw the rebus-answer that Mr. Peck had sent 
in. Of course, she would see why ours had not 
won when she saw that. And when we got 
down to where the car turned a corner just 
above Maitland’s, and we got sight of the 
store, I knew, pretty quick, that she would n’t 
have to wait very long; for on the pavement 
out in front there was a crowd of people gath- 
ered before a window, and I was pretty sure 
that it could n’t be anything but the rebus- 
prize that would make so many people stand 
there. 

So we almost ran down to the store, to see 
if it was the answers, and we found when we 
got there, that we had thought right. But 

[ 241 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


we could n’t get near to the window, because 
people crowded so; and while we were stand- 
ing waiting for a chance, who should come 
out of the midst of all the people but Tom. 

“Hello,” he said, stopping and grinning at 
us. “Too bad we did n’t win!” 

“Yes,” said Gracia, looking at him a little 
funny. “I wonder why we didn’t.^” 

“ We were too slow, I guess,” Tom said. 

“Have you seen the answers?” I asked 
him. 

“No, it’s too crowded.” 

“It was very queer about your uncle win- 
ning,” said Gracia. 

“Yes,” answered Tom. “He didn’t tell 
me he was going to send in an answer.” 

“He said you did n’t tell him about ours,” 
I said. 

“No, I didn’t,” he replied. 

“ Did n’t you say anything to him at all 
about using his name?” 

“No,” said Tom, shaking his head. 

“ Well, I think it ’s very queer,” said Gracia, 
a little bit angry, and you could see that she 

[ 242 ] 


A MYSTERY 


thought Tom might not be telling the truth 
even now. 

“You think I’d lie about it? ’’asked Tom, 
sort of demanding. 

“ I did n’t say that,” Gracia answered, cool 
as could be, “but I ’d like it very much better 
if I knew all about how it has happened the 
way it has.” 

“ Well you need n’t talk that way to me,” 
Tom said, in a mean kind of way that made me 
mad at him, and I was going to say something 
to him, but Gracia was too quick. 

“I need n’t talk to you at all, I suppose,” 
she answered, and she turned right away. 
Then she spoke to me. 

“I want to stay right here till I see that 
rebus-answer,” she said. “Maybe there will 
be something about it that will tell us some- 
thing.” 

“All right,” I answered, “but it may take 
us quite a while to get up to the window.” 

“ We ’ll keep on trying till we do get there,” 
she said. 

Tom turned away and left us, but we went 

[ 243 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


on as close in among the people as we 
could get, and then we moved when they 
did. 

“I don’t believe Tom’s honest at all,” 
Gracia said. 

“Why not.^^” I asked her. 

“He does n’t act like it.” 

“Someway I thought so, too, but I can’t 
see where there ’s anything really wrong — 
that we know is wrong.” 

“No,” said Gracia, “but I ’m sure.” 

Well, of course, her saying so did n’t make 
it so that Tom was dishonest, but it made me 
feel that what I ’d been thinking was probably 
pretty near right. I was thinking about it, 
while we tried to keep our place in the crowd 
and push through, when I heard two women 
right in front of us talking. 

“His name is Peck,” one of them said. 
“Ben Peck and he lives in Drill Street.” 

“Drill Street!” exclaimed the other wo- 
man. 

“Yes, is n’t that ridiculous?” 

“Well, I should think so! Why, Drill 

[ 244 ] 


A MYSTERY 


Street is that dirty little court that leads off 
Pearl Avenue; why, it’s one of the worst 
places in the city.” 

The other woman laughed. “It’s likely 
anybody way down there could win such a 
prize,” she said. 

“I don’t believe these prize contests are 
ever honest,” the second woman said. 

“No, they aren’t,” the first woman an- 
swered. “They always have them all fixed 
so that somebody in the store will win, or 
somebody whose name they can use. They 
never really give the prize to an outsider.” 

Well, that made me feel pretty queer. It 
showed in a second how people outside the 
store were ready as could be to suspect that 
everything was n’t just right, and it showed 
me, too, that there was a good reason why 
Mr. Paine made rules about employees of the 
music department and of music-stores not 
being allowed to send in answers. I looked 
at Gracia and I saw that she had heard, too, 
and her face was pretty serious. 

“Isn’t that mean.^^” she said. 

[ 245 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“Yes,’’ I answered, but I knew she would 
say something more, and she did. 

“But it makes me feel that we had n’t any 
right to try for the prize. It makes me sort 
of glad we did n’t win.” 

“Are you?” I answered. “But I didn’t 
suppose anybody would be so ready to think 
a place like Maitland’s is n’t honest.” 

“It makes me feel pretty bad,” Gracia said. 

The women who had talked moved away 
to one side, and we got into their place just 
then, and there were only a few persons be- 
tween us and the windows. I tried to see 
between them, but could n’t find a place. We 
could see the tops of the pianos over their 
shoulders, but none of the rebus-answers were 
in sight. One man was standing still right 
before us and not moving at all, but just 
looking and looking at the window. He was 
tall enough to see, and I thought he was kind 
of mean not to move and give us a chance. 
But we could n’t get by him, and so, after 
a while I just pushed a little to try to make 
him think he should let somebody else in. 

[ 246 ] 


A MYSTERY 


And all at once he turned and looked down at 
- us, and — it was Mr. Ben Peck, the duck-man. 

He did n’t say anything, for a second, 
although he knew me right away, but he stood 
and stared down at me. 

“Are you looking at your prize?” I asked 
him, because I could n’t think of anything 
else to say. 

“Yes,” he answered. 

Gracia looked at me, surprised, but of 
course, I could n’t tell her very well then that 
the man was Tom’s uncle. At least, I did n’t 
think I could, for it all seemed so uncertain 
to me as to whether he had any fair right to 
win. 

“The pianos in the windows are duplicates 
of the ones that will be given as prizes,” I 
said. “I guess the real prizes will, perhaps, 
be delivered while these are standing in the 
window.” 

“Oh, will they?” he asked. 

“Yes — maybe to-day,” I said. 

“Oh!” he said again, as if he hadn’t 
thought of that before. 

[ 247 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


Then, all at once, he moved a little to one 
side, as if he could understand at last that we 
wanted to see, and he let us into his place. 
Just at the same time, some women who were 
next to the window moved, too, and all at 
once, we were next to the glass, and there, 
right in the centre stood a beautiful Shellwin 
piano, with Mr. Ben Peck’s rebus-answer on 
it, and a card saying that it had been awarded 
the first prize. 

I turned to Gracia, to see what she would 
say and do, expecting that she would be quite 
surprised at how fine the winning answer 
looked, and I found her just staring, with ever 
so much more surprise than I had imagined 
she would have. And then, all at once, she 
turned to me, with her face all going red and 
she just sort of gasped and put her hand on 
my arm. 

“Why, but — ” she exclaimed, and hesi- 
tated. Then she almost shook me. “ Why, 
Walter McDonald! Why, didn’t you tell 
me?” she asked. 

“Tell what?” I answered, for I couldn’t 

[ 248 ] 



“Don’t you know that that first-prize rebus-answer 
is ours? ” 




A MYSTERY 


believe that it was just the appearance of the 
rebus-answers that made her so excited. 

“Why!” she exclaimed again, “don’t you 
know — don’t you know that that first prize 
rebus-answer is oursF'^ 


[ 249 ] 


CHAPTER XIX 

SOMETHING THAT NEEDED TELLING 

J GUESS I just stood like a stupid know- 
nothing and could n’t answer or ask ques- 
tions or anything, when Gracia said the 
rebus-answer on that Shellwin piano was the 
one we had sent in. Of course, I could n’t 
understand it at all, and I had never even 
dreamed of such a thing. But, somehow the 
first thought that really made me move was 
that Mr. Ben Peck was standing right behind 
us, and in a second, I turned to look at him. 

But he was gone. I don’t know when he 
had left us, but it must have been the very 
moment we first made our way to the window, 
for I could n’t see him at all, and there were 
just a lot of other people crowding in around 
us, looking at the prizes in the window. I 
saw one or two looking at Gracia and me a 
little curiously, too, and I knew that they must 
have heard what she said, so when I turned 

[ 250 ] 


SOMETHING TOLD 


back to her, quick, I spoke as low as I 
could. 

“Do you really mean it?” I asked, almost 
whispering. 

“Why, of course,” she answered speaking 
low, too, but looking up at me and laughing. 
“You didn’t see our answer after mother 
fixed it up for me, did you ?” 

“Your mother?” 

“Yes, she ’s an artist. She teaches drawing 
in a school. I told her about it that night 
when I was going to have it typewritten, and 
she said that the way people did was to make 
the answers as handsome as they could. She 
saw just such a contest one time, and that ’s 
the way they did them.” 

“But did you tell her about Ben Peck?” 
I asked. 

“No,” she answered; “wasn’t that all 
right ? ” 

“I don’t know,” I said, but I could hardly 
think about it then, for I was so astonished 
that that winning rebus-answer was ours that 
I could n’t talk. 

[ 251 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


“My mother worked almost a whole night 
on that answer,” Gracia said. “I thought it 
was very queer if it would n’t win any prize 
at all.” 

“Does Tom know it.?” I asked, thinking 
all of a sudden about him. 

“No,” she answered. “I told him only 
that we fixed it up as fine as we could.” 

“But what are we going to do now?” I 
asked. 

“We’ve won!” said Gracia, sort of half to 
herself. “I wonder what mother will say.” 

But I was n’t thinking then so much about 
whether we had a right, as employees of the 
store, to win a prize. I was thinking about 
how Tom and his uncle had lied, and how I 
was sure now, as I could ever be, that Tom 
had cheated and been crooked all the way 
through; and I was getting so much excited 
that I could hardly listen to anything. 

“Gracia,” I said, in a minute, “I’ve got to 
go and see Mr. Paine. Will you go, too, and 
help me tell him all about it?” 

She hesitated a second thinking, and then, 

[ 252 ] 


SOMETHING TOLD 


all at once, she started away from the window. 
“Yes,” she said. “Come now!” 

Well, we got out of that crowd pretty quick. 
It was lots easier than to get in. I guess I 
bumped into people a good deal, too; but I 
hardly noticed, for I don’t know as I ever had 
so many things in my mind at once. And 
we hurried into the store and to the elevators, 
and then up and to our oflSce, as fast as we 
could. I was hoping and hoping we’d find 
Mr. Paine there then, and when we got to our 
room and saw his door shut and heard his 
voice inside, I was so glad that I just would n’t 
wait at all, but went and knocked right away. 

“Come in!” Mr. Paine called out; and 
when I opened the door, who do you think 
was in there with him.^ It was Tom. 

“Oh, here you are!” said Mr. Paine. 
“ Come in, Walter. I ’m having a talk with 
Tom here.” 

“Gracia Tarrant is here with me,” I an- 
swered, “ and we ’ve got something to tell you.” 

“All right,” he said. “Come in. Tom’s 
telling me a story, too.” 

[ 253 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


Tom looked at me, and I could see he was 
mighty sorry that we had come, but he sort 
of sat up in his chair and looked as if he meant 
to show me then that I could n’t get him into 
trouble. 

“I’ve been asking Tom about that letter I 
gave you to take to Redfern, the day you were 
hurt,” Mr. Paine said. “He carried the letter 
for you, did he.^” 

“He told me he did, afterwards.” 

“Well, he did. I know that. Now he’s 
told me why you and he were fighting that day. 
I want to hear what you say about it.” 

“He tried to take the letter away from me,” 
I said. 

“I did n’t,” Tom disputed. 

“You did, too,” I answered. 

“Hold on,” said Mr. Paine. “One at a 
time. Go on, McDonald.” 

“He jerked the envelope out of my hand, 
and I was trying to get it, when we stepped 
off the curb into the street and the auto hit us.” 

“And why did he want to take the letter 
away from you asked Mr. Paine. 

[ 254 ] 


SOMETHING TOLD 


“Because he thought it had something in it 
about the rebus-prize.” 

“I did n’t, either,” said Tom. “I was just 
monkeying.” 

“ I thought you said you did n’t try to take 
the letter,” Mr. Paine answered sharply. 
“Don’t interrupt. Now, Walter, what about 
the rebus-prize ” 

“Tom wanted to see the answers,” I said. 

“The answers!” 

“Yes, sir, and I wouldn’t let him. That 
was how it started.” 

“Well, but you told us yesterday that you 
never saw the answers till after the rebus- 
contest closed!” 

“I didn’t. I didn’t know I had them, 
then.” 

Mr. Paine just stared at me. “What sort 
of nonsense is this he asked. “You did n’t 
know you had them.^” 

“No, sir,” I answered. 

It seemed very strange that he should act 
so about it, for I could n’t see what he meant. 
And he just looked from Tom to me and then 

[ 255 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


to Gracia. Of course, she did n’t know any- 
thing at all about this part of the story, so she 
was just listening. 

“Well, go on,” Mr. Paine said, after a 
minute. 

“Well, the envelope fell in the street when 
we did, I guess,” I said, “and then I fainted 
away and when I came to, in the shipping- 
room, Tom had it.” 

“Well,” said Mr. Paine, “what has the 
envelope to do with the rebus-answers ” 

That astonished me as much as what he ’d 
said before and I did n’t know what to say, 
and all at once, Tom broke in. 

“It ’s because I played a joke on him, Mr. 
Paine,” he said. “He thinks the rebus- 
answers were in the envelope, then.” 

“Oh,” answered Mr. Paine. 

“Why, they were!” I cried out, for I 
could n’t believe they had n’t been, after I had 
taken the sheet out of the envelope I found 
in the pocket of my uniform coat when I 
came back. 


[ 256 ] 


SOMETHING TOLD 


“No,” said Mr. Paine, slowly, “there were 
no answers to the rebus in the envelope I gave 
you.” 

“Well, but how did they get in there, 
then?” I asked. 

But Tom broke in again. “He ’s trying to 
make out something against me, Mr. Paine,” 
he said. “When he came back to the store 
after he got hurt, I had some fun with him. 
I put an old dirty envelope in his uniform- 
coat pocket, just to make him think it was 
the one he had from you for Redfern’s, and 
I told him it had the rebus-answers in it. And 
then when he went to look into it, I took it 
and tore it up. So he believes the rebus- 
answers really were in it.” 

I never heard anybody tell a thing that 
was n’t true the way he told that, and I just 
jumped right up out of my chair. 

“That isn’t true,” I just holloed at him, 
“and you know it. The printed rebus- 
answers were in that dirty envelope, for I saw 
them. That was the time I saw the rebus- 


[ 257 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


answers, Mr. Paine, and it was the only time, 
and that was after the contest had closed. It 
was on Monday morning.” 

“Now, look here,” said Mr. Paine, to both 
of us, “you two just stop a minute. I ’ll ask 
a few questions. Tom, you put a dirty en- 
velope into Walter’s pocket, so he ’d think it 
was the one that fell in the street when you 
had your fight 

“Yes. It was only in fun, though.” 

“All right. Now, how did it happen that 
it was a clean envelope you delivered to Red- 
fern.?” 

Tom stopped short, for a second, and then 
he grinned. “I did n’t want to deliver such 
a looking envelope,” he answered. 

“Why, you told me — ” I started to say, 
but Mr. Paine held his hand up, and I stopped. 

“Now,” he went on, “you changed the 
sheet in the dirty envelope and put it in a clean 
one and took it to Redfern’s?” 

“Yes, sir. I thought you wouldn’t want 
me to take such a looking envelope over 
there.” 


[ 258 ] 


SOMETHING TOLD 


“No, — all right. Very good. Then, of 
course, that was how you happened to know 
that the sheet in the envelope was not the 
rebus-answers.” 

“Why, yes,” said Tom, “or — ” then he 
hesitated — “or no,” he added. “I — I — ” 

“Well, what about it?” asked Mr. Paine, 
sharply. “You opened the sheet and looked 
at it. It was n’t the rebus-answers, was it?” 

“No, sir,” said Tom. “I did n’t open the 
sheet. But it was n’t the rebus-answer sheet. 
It was n’t that kind of paper.” 

Mr. Paine looked at him a long time, and 
then he smiled a little, but he turned to me. 
“Now,” he said, “what did you have to tell 
me?” 


[ 259 ] 


CHAPTER XX 

A PRIZE LOST AND WON 

“T WANTED to tell you that the rebus- 
answer which won the first prize was 
sent in by Tom and Gracia and me,” I an- 
swered. “ We sent it in the name of Mr. Ben 
Peck, Tom’s uncle.” 

“You sent it in! What, you three?” ex- 
claimed Mr. Paine. He looked at Gracia, 
and so she answered. 

“Yes, sir,” she said. 

“You two and Tom!” he repeated, as if he 
could hardly believe it. And then he looked 
quick at me again. “In the name of Mr. 
Peck? Why?” 

“Because — ” then I stopped. I could 
hardly bear to admit that it was because we 
were afraid to let him know we were employees 
of the store. But then I thought quick that 
I would n’t be a coward, so I said it right out, 
though I could n’t look up. 

[ 260 ] 


PRIZE LOST AND WON 


“ We were afraid to have you know that we 
were employees in the store,” I said. “It 
was my fault, because Gracia thought it 
was n’t right for us, at first, and I made her 
think it was. I guess I made myself think 
so.” 

I was awfully ashamed, then, but after it 
was out, I began to feel about a million times 
better than I had for a week, and I looked up 
at Mr. Paine and I saw that he was smiling, 
the least bit. 

“Employees were not barred,” he said, 
“except those in the music department. But 
we ought to have barred the advertising de- 
partment, too, I see. However — ” 

“But I really thought if we did everything 
fair we would have a right to win,” I said. 

“Well, you would,” he answered. “But 
I ’d have been sorry to have an employee of 
this office win. It would look bad. But 
there ’s something else back of this yet.” 

“Yes, sir, there is,” I said, quickly, for I 
wanted to tell it myself. “After I saw the 
rebus-answers that I found in my pocket, I 
[ 261 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


was afraid maybe Tom had — had seen them 
before we got all our answers written, and 
so I asked him and he said no, but I — ” 

“Mr. Paine,” Tom said, suddenly, “Mc- 
Donald ’s sore because my uncle won the prize 
and we did n’t. He ’s just trying to make out 
that I cheated, to spoil my uncle’s chance.” 

“Look here, young man,” said Mr. Paine, 
suddenly. “ I know who ’s lying here. I ’ve 
got enough against you now to show you up. 
You told me you did n’t open the sheet in the 
envelope I gave Walter for Redfern. You 
did, for I had set a trap in that letter for the 
boy who should open it. I put some little 
bits of paper in that letter, and phoned to 
Redfern that I had done so, because he thought 
Walter here had seen the rebus-answers, in 
type in his office, and because that was the 
morning I missed a sheet of the rebus-answers 
here from the package Redfern sent. When 
you delivered my note to Redfern, the bits of 
paper were not in it.” 

Tom looked a little scared, but he was quick. 
“Well, Walter opened it, then,” he said. 

[ 262 ] 



“Now I want you to explain how you knew what 
kind of paper the rebus-answers were printed on” 




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PRIZE LOST AND WON 


“I didn’t know till just now who opened 
it,” Mr. Paine answered. “I laid the trap 
first because Redfern suspected Walter, as I 
said, and I did n’t believe Redfern was right 
and wanted to prove it to him. Now, I know 
Walter did n’t open that letter, because he 
believed till this afternoon that it had the 
rebus-answers in it.” 

“That’s just a bluff,” said Tom. 

“It is n’t. But now I want you to explain 
to me how you knew what kind of paper the 
rebus-answers were printed on.?” 

Tom’s eyes opened and then his mouth, 
too, but he just sat and looked at Mr. Paine 
as if he could n’t help himself at all now. 
Then the red came up all over his face and he 
suddenly looked down. 

“I guess we know now, then,” said Mr. 
Paine, turning to his desk in his quick way. 
Then he spoke to Gracia. “ Will you please 
go up to the sporting-goods department on the 
sixth fioor and ask Mr. Mallory to come down. 
Walter here is going to tell us the whole story.” 

Well, I could hardly believe that all the 

[ 263 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


troubles I ’d had were going to end all at once, 
but I guess I never felt happier in my life 
than I did then. And when Mr. Mallory 
came down, I did tell the whole story, just as 
it was. And Gracia was there to tell that 
all the part she knew about was true. But 
Tom did n’t deny anything then and they all 
believed me at last. And Tom just broke 
down and cried and admitted everything. It 
turned out that he got mad at me first because 
he saw me working on the rebus with Gracia, 
so he wanted to get ahead of us. He did 
steal the sheet of rebus-answers on the morn- 
ing when he told me he was looking at the 
pay-roll in Mr. Paine’s office. And after- 
wards he put the sheet in the envelope Mr. 
Paine had given me for Redfern’s and put it 
in my pocket, because he meant either to ac- 
cuse me of stealing it if he was ever questioned, 
or if I found it first, to make me believe it had 
been in the envelope from the beginning. 

And it came out, too, that Tom had told 
his uncle about using his name on our answer, 
but that j^fterwards they both just thought 

[ 264 ] 


PRIZE LOST AND WON 


it would be easy to make everybody think 
that Mr. Peck had sent in the answer that won. 
So that showed that Mr. Peck was n’t honest, 
either. And that made my heart ache again, 
for I thought of my silver canoe and that I ’d 
never see it again. But I could n’t say any- 
thing about it then, and Mr. Paine went on 
to tell about the suspicion against me. He 
said Redfern was sure about my seeing the 
type and that he had set the trap with the 
letter, as he had said, to show Mr. Redfern 
that I would n’t open it. Then when I got 
hurt and Tom delivered the letter, they 
could n’t tell which of us had opened it, though 
it seemed as if it must have been me, because 
Mr. Paine had told me it had something to 
do with the rebus-prize. 

They did n’t expect that we ’d try for the 
prize under an outsider’s name, so they thought 
when no answer came from either of us that 
we had n’t done any cheating; but when Mr. 
Mallory heard that Ben Peck had won, and 
he told Mr. Paine about my being with him 
and seeing Mr. Peck down the river on the 

[ 265 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


very day before the contest closed, they got 
suspicious that I must have known Tom’s 
uncle all the time and that I had given him 
the information about the puzzle-answers. 
And then, when Mr. Mallory called up my 
father on the phone and found that he was 
out of town, he thought I had lied to him 
about where I got the money I paid for the 
canoe, and that made him think maybe some- 
body had paid me to get the rebus-answers. 
Of course, I told all about the money then, 
and about my bank, and about how little I 
had left, and when Mr. Paine heard that, he 
said he would see that I was paid for the week 
I was out because it was really while I was 
working that I was hurt. 

When the story was all told, Mr. Paine just 
told Tom he could go, and that he need n’t 
come back any more; and Tom went out 
crying so that I was sorry for him, even though 
he had been so mean. Then he said to me 
that my fault had been that I had done some- 
thing in the first place that I was doubtful 


[ 268 ] 


PRIZE LOST AND WON 


about being right, and then had kept still 
about it. 

“ Secrets like that are poor things, anyway, ” 
he said, “for a man who wants to be honest. 
And everything we do is either honest or it ’s 
dishonest, so there need n’t ever be any doubt. 
But I can see you meant to be on the square, 
for you told us in the end.” 

Then he turned to Gracia. “My dear,” 
he said, “your mother does beautiful work. 
Will you ask her to come and see me? I 
think she can get a great deal more money 
for the sort of work she can do than in teach- 
ing.” 

That just made me happier than anything 
that had happened. I was so glad to have 
things come out so for Gracia and her mother 
that I thought I hardly cared even about the 
canoe, which I was sure now must be lost, 
because Mr. Peck would never come back 
after he learned that he was n’t to get the 
prize after all. Mr. Paine said they would 
have to give the prize to the one who had been 


[ 267 ] 


THE SILVER CANOE 


awarded second prize before, so Mr. Ben Peck 
would be out of it. But at the very end, when 
everything else was done, Mr. Mallory stepped 
outside the oflSce, and then came back in. 
And when he did, Mr. White, the farmer from 
the country, was with him. 

“Your canoe is found, Walter,” he said. 
“Mr. White traced Mr. Ben Peck’s move- 
ments and they got the canoe from the island 
down river this morning. It ’s down at Mr. 
White’s place now, safe and waiting for you. 
If Peck went back home this afternoon, he ’s 
under arrest now, too, for they were waiting 
for him.” 

Well, maybe I was n’t glad to hear about 
that canoe. I just caught hold of Mr. White’s 
hand and I guess I almost hugged it, for every- 
body laughed. But I did n’t care. And I 
did n’t care whether they arrested Ben Peck 
or not. As it turned out, they did n’t; for 
he found out from some friend that the oflScers 
were at his house, and he never went back, 
but just ran away. And I did n’t care when 
I heard that, either. But I did care when Mr. 

[ 268 ] 


PRIZE LOST AND WON 


Mallory put his hands on my shoulders and 
looked down at me and said something I ’ll 
always remember. 

“ I don’t know how I ’ll make up to you for 
suspecting you, old man,” he said. “But 
I ’ll have a story to tell your father when he 
gets home, that I guess he’ll like to hear. 
It ’s a boy like you that a father can be proud 
of.” 


THE END 












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